


At the Stroke of Midnight

by bunilicious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Cats, Cinderella AU, Cinderella Elements, Devoted Reylo, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Pining, Rags to Riches, Shoes, Size Kink, Smut, Thirsty Rey, Virgin Rey, ben solo has beautiful hair, dancing in the moonlight, ill-fitting clothes, imagery hoe, masquerades, reylo au, they like to talk about books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-02-10 00:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunilicious/pseuds/bunilicious
Summary: He knew.The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, and it was only the warmth of his hand on her elbow that kept her upright. How else could she explain the determination beneath his soulful gaze?He was iron, wrapped in the finest velvet.“Rey,” Ben spoke at last, his voice barely above a whisper.Yes, she wanted to scream. I am the masked woman who waltzed with you underneath the moonlight. The one who ran away when the clock struck twelve. The one who lost her shoe at the foot of the stairs.But he had to say it first. He had to.“Rey.” He took a deep breath, eyes fixed upon her expectant face. “I need you to help me find her.”Her dreams were made of glass. And in that moment they had shattered.-------A REYLO VICTORIAN / CINDERELLA AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnightbluefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightbluefox/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Ровно в полночь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19417873) by [Elafira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elafira/pseuds/Elafira)



> This is for the lovely @midnightbluefox. I was so happy to find out I'd be writing a fic for you, and I hope you enjoy what came out. :) Thank you so much for being an incredible headmistress and friend. This is the first chapter, but there will be more to come.
> 
> The prompt I'm working with is:
> 
> 5.Victorian/Historical romance. Can have a forbidden love aspect. Can have steampunk elements if you'd like. Really up to the author but I'd love pretty costumes and smut.
> 
> Thank you to my beta for helping me get this chapter out in time!

\--

 

She liked to watch him pluck hyacinths in the garden.

 

It was a small and intimate patch of land, bordered by tall hedges made of shrubs and pink roses, a refuge nestled at the back of an imposing townhouse in the heart of Mayfair.

 

To the ordinary passer-by, such a verdant haven would have been unnoticeable.

 

But to Rey, the nineteen-year-old scullery maid who lived in the drafty attic next door, such a sight was an almost daily occurrence.

 

Each year she awaited the arrival of spring, the time of the year when the Duke of Corellia would set foot in London to attend the season, to be the honored guest of many balls and soirees alongside his ailing mother.

 

Almost every morning, Rey would watch him from her open window as he wandered around the garden deep in thought, hands crossed behind his broad back.

 

He would pause to contemplate the array of blooms which had sprung from the once cold soil – clusters of tulips and peonies, proud daffodils and colorful freesias.

 

He would always pick a flower for his mother.

 

Today he plucked a hyacinth – a purple shaped bloom with its small bells swaying in the spring breeze.

 

Leaning against the window sill, Rey observed as the duke gazed upon the flower with the tenderness she knew so well. Heart pounding in her chest, she watched his eyes close, long lashes brushing against his pale skin as he inhaled the soft perfume.

 

She wished the bloom was _her_ instead.

 

Then, with a smile, she followed his long strides towards the narrow stone bench nestled between two rose bushes – one red and the other as white as snow.

 

His mother always sat there in the morning, dressed in sumptuous dark velvet, her grey hair pinned up in an intricate braid which displayed her frown for the son to see.

 

Today was no exception.

 

Sitting down on the bench, the Duke of Corellia handed her the flower. It was a peace offering Rey knew too well, having observed him many times over the last couple of years, from the day he’d inherited his father’s dukedom.

 

With a sigh, the dowager duchess accepted the gift, placing the bloom on her lap.

 

“Ben, you should know by now that this will not dissuade me,” she said, tilting her head as if to challenge him.

 

He simply nodded, a smile playing on his lush lips. He had, Rey could see even from afar, a beautiful mouth – the type of mouth that every girl dreamed of kissing.

 

And she was no exception.

 

She had spent many nights dreaming the impossible.

 

Dreaming that his soft lips would claim her own in a searing kiss. Dreaming that she would wrap her arms around his powerful frame or rest her palms on top of his wide shoulders. Dreaming that her fingers would then brush against the tips of his dark and wavy hair.

 

“And you should know that I will never marry someone else’s choice,” Ben replied, his voice etched with impatience.

 

The old woman shook her head. “May I remind you that as the Duke of – “

 

“I know very well what my responsibilities are,” he interrupted, holding out his palm. “You have done a fine job repeating them all my life.”

 

“And yet, you defy me,” the dowager resumed, visibly undeterred by her son’s refusal.

 

“No,” Ben replied, his voice softer this time around. “I simply wish to have a _choice_.”

 

“And how long must I wait for you to make that choice?” The dowager stood up, holding the hyacinth in her left hand as she moved. “I will not live forever.”

 

The son lowered his head then, letting out a deep sigh. “I know that very well.”

 

A pause descended over them like a shroud. From her vantage point, Rey watched as Ben raked a hand through his hair, wavy and luscious, longer than what society deemed fashionable.

 

She knew very well what came next. She’d witnessed the exchange countless times.

 

At first, it had been odd to see a man who cared so much for a love match. From what she had seen, too many men were inclined to marry for wealth or connections instead of a bond that would last a lifetime.

 

But Ben was a romantic at heart. That much was obvious to her.

 

“Believe me, mother, I have thought long and hard about our family’s future,” he continued, letting his palms rest on his knees.

 

Biting her lip, Rey tilted her head to listen further, entranced by the gentle sound of his voice.

 

She knew he would refuse her anew. Yet, she would still hang on to his every word as if he’d uttered it for the first time.

 

“I have thought about it,” he said with a sigh. The wind grew stronger, ruffling his inky hair. “And you are right.”

 

Rey’s stomach sank, and a soft wail escaped her parted lips. Gripping the window still, she could only watch as her heart broke into pieces.

 

“I will find a wife.”

 

 

~*~

 

 

News of the upcoming masquerade ball spread across London like wildfire.

 

It was not every day that an eligible bachelor announced his intention to find a bride for all to hear.

 

As she observed the preparations from her small window, Rey could not help the pang of jealousy that settled over her heart.  Every morning she caught a glimpse of the preparations, of the countless footmen and maids scurrying from one place to the other, arms laden with trunks and fabrics.

 

Every morning she heard the enthusiasm of the dowager duchess echo across the garden, the elation of a mother who was pleased her son would soon find a suitable bride.

 

And every morning she would be reminded of just how hopeless her dreams of love and belonging truly were.

 

That bride, Rey knew all too well, would never be her.

 

She saw less and less of Ben in the coming days. His daily strolls through the garden were now a rarity, absorbed as he was with his upcoming duties as host of the soon to be most extravagant ball of the season.  

 

Every day, the other servants in her household would trade the stories they’d overheard from the duke’s staff.

 

Hundreds of guests had been invited to the ball – the town’s wealthiest and most respectable members – all of whom had at least a daughter or niece of marriageable age. Young women who were in possession of accomplishments befitting the future Duchess of Corellia.

 

She had heard how the eligible ladies would remain masked until the stroke of midnight, increasing the anticipation and significance of the duke’s ultimate choice of bride.

 

Every day, Rey hid behind a mask of her own. A mask of pretense in which she claimed such gossip was beneath her.

 

But, deep down, it hurt.

 

It hurt knowing that the man she had admired from afar for so long would never be hers. It hurt knowing that she could have easily enjoyed the pleasure of his company had she not been deprived of her home and fortune.

 

“Rey.”

 

Dread shot through her spine at the sound of her uncle’s gruff voice. Turning around, she cast one final look at the sight which lay below – a solitary man strolling by the green hedge with a pensive look etched upon his face.

 

She stood up, neatening her worn brown skirt. “Uncle Plutt,” she acknowledged him, eyes fixed on the creaky floorboard, if only to avoid looking at a ruddy face with a perpetually judgmental gaze.

 

“I thought I told you to clean every hearth in this house,” he thundered, pacing across the room with a furious gait.

 

Biting down a sigh, Rey simply nodded. This house had once been her home, but it had never belonged to her in truth. Niima Terrace was entailed to the male line, passed down to her uncle after the untimely death of her father on the field of battle. Her mother had perished in childbirth long ago.

 

“Upset me again and I will make sure you go without any food tomorrow as well,” Plutt continued in a threatening tone. “I waste far too much money on you as it is.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, wandering over to an old trunk in the corner. Opening it, she pulled out her cleaning supplies as quickly as she could, aware that he could easily make good on his word.

 

Punishments were a relatively common occurrence in her uncle’s household. If she didn’t go without food for the day, she was usually locked in the attic with only her thoughts for company.

 

Solitude did not bother Rey as much as an empty stomach did.

 

Picking up a large rag and a brush, she ran out of the room in an instant.

 

 

~*~

 

 

The day of the masquerade ball arrived with the usual fanfare.

 

As Rey looked out of the window once more, she noticed the usual throng of maids and footman rushing in and out of the duke’s house. Leaning forward, her eyes scanned the busy London streets in a failed attempt to count carriages and bystanders, if only to distract her from the reality she lived in.

 

The man she loved was getting engaged.

 

The night before, she’d heard whispers in the kitchen that the Duke of Corellia had opted for a masquerade ball to give every woman an equal chance.

 

It was, Rey had to admit, a considerate gesture, one that allowed the prospective duchesses the opportunity to navigate the ballroom without the fear of being judged for their appearance. Perhaps, she pondered, the mask would allow them to be more candid.

 

 _Perhaps it will give them the courage to kiss him_. Settling her elbows on the window still, Rey let out a deep and troubled sigh.

 

“Hello there,” a low voice interrupted her gloomy musings.

 

Upon hearing him, Rey’s cheeks flushed immediately. For a second, she debated closing the window, too unprepared to speak to him for the first and more probable last time.

 

However, her instinct did not prevail. Looking down, she came face to face with Ben’s curious brown eyes. A slight smile played upon his features as he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

 

“I hope I didn’t frighten you, miss…” he began, visibly unsure how to address her.

 

“R-Rey,” she stuttered as if in a dream.

 

 _I live here_. “I work here,” she added.

 

The urge to pinch herself took over, but just as she was about to do it, she realized that there was no need. This moment was very much real. The man she’d been enchanted by for years was standing in front of her, his inquisitive gaze locked with her own as he waited for her to speak.

 

“Your Grace. I am very sorry. I did not mean to pry.”

 

He simply chuckled. “Is that so, Rey?” The question was phrased in such a way that suggested he needed no answers. “I must have imagined seeing you look out that window almost every day since my arrival.”

 

Her right hand moved up to brush an errant curl away. She had never taken pains with her appearance. It was a luxury she could ill afford. But, in that moment, she wished she had, for once, the perfect ringlets of a wealthy debutante, a tightly laced corset and beautiful silk dress that would twirl as she waltzed.  

 

“Y-you saw me?”

 

“You seem very intrigued by what is going on,” he said instead, gesturing around him.

 

He acted as if the garden seemed more fascinating to her than the person who strolled through it almost every day, plucking flowers with a furrowed brow.

 

Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “It is not every day that one witnesses such…excitement,” she lied. “You must be looking forward to tonight, Your Grace.”

 

His eyebrows shot up, and he rewarded her with an incredulous look. “I think you know more than anyone that I am in fact dreading every second of it.”

 

Rey could not help but smile at that. The feeling was very much mutual, but she could hardly tell him such a thing. He was a duke, engaged in polite conversation to someone a person of his stature would normally shun.

 

Her uncle had made sure she knew her place.

 

“Perhaps you will find the woman of your dreams,” Rey said in a trembling voice.

 

A voice without conviction.

 

“There is no such thing,” Ben retorted, radiating the certainty she lacked.

 

His back straightened then; broad shoulders covered by a smooth black waistcoat that matched the rest of his attire. He was every inch a gentleman, titled and wealthy, with the world at his feet.

 

Her reply came out before she could consider it. “That is a very strange thing for you to say.”  

 

He crossed his arms behind his back. “How so?”

 

Rey shook her head. A sudden wave of nervousness overtook her, bathing her cheeks in heat.

 

“Tell me,” he insisted, every inch a duke.

 

A part of her knew she should speak. It was not as if he would ever talk to her after this moment.

 

From the first moment she had glimpsed him in the garden three years ago, Rey knew very well what she was: a mere footnote in the life of an important man, an insignificant presence cursed to watch him from afar as he built a life without her in it.

 

She would sit by the window and watch as he plucked flowers for his wife and daughters, paying no mind to the inhabitants who lived in the decaying house next door.

 

“You strike me as a romantic, Your Grace,” she said before she could change her mind. “Since I have been observing you almost every day, I think I know this better than anyone.”

 

To her surprise, Ben tilted his head to the side, as if he were genuinely considering her words. The thought made her heart flutter.

 

“You said that you will never marry someone else’s choice,” Rey continued, emboldened by his reaction. “And in many ways, I think you can prove it tonight.”

 

He would never be hers, that much she knew. However, the least she could do was to encourage him to be happy.

 

If he could be happy, perhaps she might find some solace after all. For what was love if not ensure the happiness of those one cherished?    

 

“Know that if someone catches your eye tonight…” she paused, biting her lower lip as she prepared herself for the inevitable. “If someone catches your eye, it will not be because of your mother’s influence. It will be because you saw something in her that drew you in. Perhaps her mask brought out the color of her eyes, or perhaps she said something that resonated with you the way nothing else ever had.”

 

She took a deep breath, glancing as the wind ruffled his dark hair. “Either way, you get to choose. I can only hope that the lady will reciprocate.”

 

“That will be the greatest challenge,” he responded with a bitter smile. “How can I be certain when my appeal rests entirely on my title and fortune?”

 

“Is that what you think, Your Grace?”

 

He shot her a wry look, an expression that suggested he did not believe her at all.

 

In response, her gaze softened, and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

 

_If you only knew._

 

“I think you are wrong,” she said at last, her heart now pounding furiously.

 

A gruff voice spoke up from downstairs, pacing loudly across the corridor. “Rey!”

 

She turned around, fully aware that her time was now running out. Then, looking back at Ben, Rey watched as he shot her a confused glance. Doubtless he had heard the abrasive voice, and her heart fluttered when she saw him clench his right fist.

 

“You shall see. Trust me,” she told him, closing the window as fast as she could.

 

 _I think you are wrong_.

 

“Rey!” her uncle bellowed once more, his steps growing louder and louder as he approached the drafty attic which served as her bedchamber.

 

Rushing to the trunk where she kept the cleaning supplies, she pulled out the worn rags and brushes, ready to begin another hard day of labor. She would scrub the heath as usual, light all the fires with whatever coal Uncle Plutt could afford, right before cleaning all the linens and emptying the chamber pots.

 

But now, for the first time ever, she had something to look forward to at the end of a grueling day.

 

_I think you are wrong. And I am going to prove it._

 

 

~*~

 

 

As it turned out, attending a masquerade ball was easier than Rey had anticipated.

 

As she sneaked inside the stately mansion through the back garden, she realized that masquerades were probably the only events where the latest fashions were not a necessary requirement.

 

It was, without a doubt, a good thing, for she had nothing fashionable to wear.

 

A thorough search through the trunks inside the attic produced one of the few garments left that weren’t moth-eaten or stained: a light blue dress which had undoubtedly belonged to one of her grandmothers, from those decades long ago, when ladies would wear extravagant powdered wigs that took hours to style properly.

 

The dress was a touch too long at the hem, and the bodice far too constricting, despite Rey’s best efforts to lace her corset until she felt light-headed. All in all, the costume, despite its faults, created the illusion that she was taller and more endowed than in real life – and Rey would have normally rejoiced, had it not been for the fear that it would burst at the seams if she inhaled too deeply.

 

At least her shoes were one size too big, and therefore unable to pinch her toes.

 

Making her way through the clusters of guests engaged in deep conversation, Rey was at least thankful the half-mask fit, secured in place by an old curtain cord with bright yellow tassels. She had skipped dinner in order to make it, cutting up old scraps of blue velvet and sewing them together until she could fashion an item which successfully concealed her identity.

 

The Duke of Corellia would never know that the scullery maid next door had sneaked into his house uninvited. Of that she was certain.

 

As she navigated the crowded ballroom, Rey looked around, talking in her surroundings. A large grandfather clock dominated the room, the time closer to midnight than she would have liked. But, in between her hastened preparations for the masquerade ball, and the difficulties in sneaking inside a well-manicured garden, time had simply gone by too fast.

 

Besides the presence of the ominous clock, a dozen masked couples were engaged in a lively dance, observed from the side by chaperons sipping on sherry and lemonade. To her left, she could see the large orchestra playing their instruments, and behind them she glimpsed an open doorway which led to an equally crowded card room.

 

She could not imagine Ben spending his time there, forgoing his duties as host.

 

Looking to her right, she saw an older woman dressed in dark velvet sitting down by the refreshments table, surrounded by other ladies with visible smiles on their faces. The woman wore a mask, but it did nothing to disguise her real identity. Her intricately braided hair indicated plainly that she was the dowager duchess, and it was clear that the other ladies knew as well – for they all bore wide smiles which aimed to please a prospective mother in law.

 

With a sigh, she turned around, scanning the ballroom once more in search of _him_. From the moment the idea had taken root inside her mind, she wanted to see Ben up close, to give him words of encouragement in lieu of feelings which were impossible to share.

 

“Where is he?” she mouthed, turning towards the main terrace.

 

The door was wide open, allowing the night air to penetrate the crowded room. Outside, trees swayed in the breeze, as if they were dancing to the music themselves. From the corner of her eye, she could glimpse a solitary figure standing by a hedge archway which led into the back garden.

 

Guided by instinct, she stepped out into the night.

 

 

~*~

 

 

It did not take long to reach him.

 

Padding softly across the freshly mowed grass, Rey took in the width of his back. Not even the fine silk waistcoat could disguise the firm muscles which lay beneath. His arms were crossed behind his back, enhancing his already imposing physique. Head tilted upwards, he seemed deep in thought and with his gaze pointed at the stars. The tips of his wavy hair brushed his shoulders, and the pale full moon shined its light upon him like a doting mother.

 

When he turned around to face her, she tripped.

 

“Oh,” she exclaimed, fully prepared for her knees to hit the cold, hard ground.

 

However, the strong arms which wrapped themselves around her waist prevented it. Looking upwards, she stared into his brown eyes, soulful pools deepened with concern. He wore no mask, and his full lips were slightly parted, letting out a soft exhale.

 

“Are you hurt?” he asked in a low voice, helping Rey to her feet.

 

Too stunned to form a coherent sentence, Rey simply shook her head. His touch seemed to seep into her skin even after he’d released her, crossing his arms behind his frame once more. He nodded a greeting.

 

“My lady,” he acknowledged her, eyes strangely serious.

 

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Your Grace,” she wobbled a curtsy, aware how ridiculous she must look to him in this moment, wearing an ill-fitting dress, hair pinned up haphazardly.

 

And, despite that, he called her a lady. A chuckle escaped her lips.

 

He shot her a confused look.

 

Blinking away the tears prickling at her eyes, she shook her head. “I should not be here.”

 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Ben approached her. “Why not?”

 

“It is a very long story.” She stepped to the side, taking in a rose bush located near the archway. “You have a beautiful garden.”

 

Leaning forward, she brushed her fingers against one of the pink blooms. “I’ve always wanted to see it up close.”

 

From behind her, she heard him approach. “Allow me,” he said, extending his right hand until it touched the fragile rose she’d been admiring.

 

As his fingers brushed her own, Rey’s skin tingled with excitement. Still, she withdrew her hand, knowing full well what he was about to do, willing her heartbeat to remain steady in anticipation for his gift.

 

Ben plucked the rose gently, a warm smile playing on his lips. “If you have always wanted to see this garden, perhaps you should be here,” he said.

 

Her own lips curled upwards, and she lowered her gaze until it landed on his hand. “Perhaps,” she conceded in a low voice. “Is that for me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

He took the rose and slipped it behind her ear.

 

Stunned, Rey glanced up, her eyes widening as she registered Ben’s cheeks turn a dusty shade of pink. “Thank you,” she mouthed, biting the inside of her cheek.

 

“What is your name?” he asked her, gaze searching, as if he were trying to decipher her appearance beneath the mask. “Have we met before?”

 

Rey shook her head, turning towards the archway. “I am told that our identities are to remain a secret.” Stepping through the arch, she looked over her shoulder, registering as his shoulders deflated. “At least until midnight.”

 

Giving him a smirk, she entered the back garden. Her pulse was beating at a furious pace, and her mind was filled with attempts to decipher how she had become so bold in such a short period of time. Was the mask to blame? Or was Ben unleashing something that had always been inside her, bubbling just under the surface?

 

The sound of Ben’s hurried steps sent the most pleasurable tingles coursing through her spine. Turning around, Rey looked into his eager face as he sat down on the narrow stone bench.

 

“Join me,” he whispered, gesturing to the empty spot next to him. “Please.”

 

Her fingers dug into the blue fabric of her dress, toying with the embroidery – small, yellow wildflowers perpetually in bloom. Biting her lower lip, she approached him.

 

“It seems the masquerade has made me bold,” she remarked, settling down beside him. In the background, she could hear the orchestra prepare for another waltz.

 

Her knees brushed against his own. “This is quite out of the ordinary.”

 

“I assure you the feeling is mutual,” Ben said, lowering his gaze until it rested, curiously enough, on her collarbone.

 

Rey straightened her back, though for the life of her she could not understand why the urge had taken hold of her so suddenly. She took a deep breath.

 

After a few moments of complete silence, he glanced up. “Dance with me.”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t dance. I’ve never had the opportunity to learn.”

 

The look he gave her could only be described as perplexed. It was clear to her, that somehow, he thought she was a grand lady, a well-bred debutante with a deep-seated appreciation for flowers and gardens.

 

The thought would have been amusing if it didn’t touch her so deeply.

 

“I can teach you,” he offered, letting his hands rest on his knees.

 

A soft laugh spilled out of her lips. “I do not think we have much time for that, Your Grace.”

 

“Waltzing is not hard,” he insisted as he stood up. Leaning forward, he offered her a hand. “Join me.”

 

Wetting her lips, she regarded his outstretched hand. Not even in her wildest dreams could she have envisioned this. To share a dance with the man whose presence robbed her of breath seemed almost too good to be true.

 

Yet, Ben was standing before her, offering to be her teacher, if only for a few stolen moments under the moonlight.

 

“Very well then”, she whispered, placing her small hand into his. “You will never see me again after this, you know. So, we might as well enjoy our final moments together.”

 

His eyebrows narrowed, as if the possibility had never occurred his mind. “What do you mean?” He pulled her against his body, his second hand resting gently on her waist.

 

“I am not here to marry you, Your Grace,” she told him. “I think I might be the only unmarried woman here who can say that.”

 

For a while he was silent, his body moving as the first strings of a new waltz started. She allowed him to guide her, her footwork unsteady for fear that one of her too-large shoes might slip off.

 

As they danced, she watched his features shift from surprise to irritation. Having only glimpsed him as a pensive man, plucking flowers in the garden, the sight was an unusual one for Rey to witness.

 

“Why not?” he asked, outrage coating his voice. “Why wouldn’t you marry _me?_ ”

 

She let out a chuckle. “We come from different worlds, Your Grace. A marriage between us would be ill-advised. You are far too rich and far too titled for me.”

 

“That is the first time someone has ever objected to my wealth,” he exclaimed. “I am told income and titles are the main ingredients to a successful marriage.”

 

“It depends on how one defines success,” she pointed out, eyes settling on his parted lips. “But, really, there is more to you than titles and lands.”

 

“Really?” Ben inquired, shooting her a look of pure disbelief. “Why do you think that?”

 

Her eyes softened. It was not pity that caused such a reaction – she could never do Ben such a disservice. Instead, understanding settled over her like a cloak.

 

She could see that, all his life, he was taught that his value rested in the name he owned and the fortune he inherited. That his own value as a person was meaningless, unless he possessed the things society deemed valuable.

 

He was taught, albeit in a different manner, the same lessons Rey’s own uncle had imparted when he took over her house and land.

 

“Why do you think that?” he asked again, his voice lower, his gaze now tinged with concern.

 

When she opened her mouth, her voice was trembling. “Because, I too fail to see the value in myself.”

 

 

~*~

 

 

When her startled gaze bore into Ben’s, she heard his breath hitch.

 

“We’re not that different,” he remarked, interrupting their dance. “You and I.”

 

His hand never left her waist, and soon enough the other joined it, pulling her frame against his.

 

“I suppose we aren’t,” she mused, tracing the outline of his jaw, watching as it clenched with emotion. “From a certain point of view.”

 

“And yet you insist that you will never marry me,” he continued, rubbing circles on her back with his thumb.

 

A soothing warmth washed through her body, settling in her lower belly. Her lips curled up into a bitter smile as she glanced downwards.

 

It was difficult to imagine how things could be different than they were now. A love match between a duke and a scullery maid was virtually unheard of in their world. All she had was this moment – a brief dance underneath the full moon, a flower she would press between the pages of her favorite book, a phantom touch that she would cling to during the lonely nights to come.

 

“You insist that we are different.” Ben leaned downward, eyes resting on her lips. “That you will never see me again.”

 

She rested her hands on his elbows. “I do,” she replied, unable to disguise the tremor in her voice. “You don’t know me well enough to marry me, Your Grace. And even if you did, marrying me would be a foolish mistake. It is best for me to disappear and wish you well.”

 

“Is that what you want? To disappear?” He drew her closer to him, so close until their lips were only inches away. “Say it and I will let you go.”

 

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

 

“Say it,” he prompted, his voice unbearably soft.

 

An errant tear rolled down her cheek, part of its progress disguised by the mask she’d fashioned mere hours ago. Still, Ben caught the tear, brushing it away with his thumb.

 

His fingers caressed her jawline. “Who are you?” he asked, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

 

“No one important.”

 

Shaking his head, he tilted her chin up. “I don’t believe you.”

 

And, just like that, he kissed her.

 

For a moment, Rey almost lost her footing, stunned as she was by what was happening to her. For so long, she had dreamed that Ben would kiss her – hold her flush against his body as his large hands roamed across her back inch by delectable inch. His touch seemed to burn through the layers of fabric which covered her heated skin, spreading the most delicious flutters through her frame.

 

His lips, soft and pliant as they moved against her parted mouth, were eager to claim her, and the thought emboldened Rey to respond in kind. To show him, for as long as she could tonight, the extent to which she wanted him.

 

Her arms wrapped themselves around his broad back, pulling him close, desperate for more of what he had to offer. As such, Ben’s tongue delved deep to taste her, eliciting soft whimpers from the back of her throat, melodic sounds which seemed to melt into the night air.

 

Once they parted for breath, she opened her eyes to stare into his own. Her gaze was unfocused, but, through the haze, she could gleam that he was not yet done with her.

 

And her heart rejoiced.

 

With a needy growl, he lowered his lips again, placing small kisses across her jawline. His nose brushed against the edge of her mask, touching her lower cheek as he moved to whisper soft endearments into her ear.  

 

“Tell me,” he murmured, bathing her skin with his warm breath. “Tell me when I can see you again.”

 

Closing her eyes, she craned her neck to allow him better access, moaning as he planted a new wave of kisses on her throat. “You are seeing me again now,” she replied, her mind a whirlwind of scattered thoughts and images.

 

He pulled away as if he’d been burned. Cupping her face, he bore his eyes into her own. “Who are you?” he breathed, like a man who was drowning.

 

 _Rey_. The word stood on the tip of her tongue, tempting Rey to unmask herself before him. To let him see her as she truly was. To hope, in vain, that a man of his social position would deign to associate himself with someone as insignificant as her.

 

“I–”

 

The clock striked midnight.

 

 

~*~

 

 

She pushed him in the nearest rose bush.

 

“I have to go,” she called out, nearly tripping over her dress as she rushed through the hedge archway.

 

Casting one last look over her shoulder, she saw as Ben tried to lift himself out of the bush, white petals scattered all over the ground. For a second, regret took over, and she debated rushing back toward him to unmask herself.

 

But, her doubts prevailed, so she turned away as he wobbled to his feet. Picking up her skirt, she ran up the stairs towards the terrace, her heels slipping out of her too-wide slippers until she was certain she’d lost one before re-entering the house.

 

Inside the ballroom, merriment reigned as eager guests removed their masks, casting furtive glances from one side to the other. Making her way through the crowd, Rey did not need to know who the enthusiastic ladies were looking for. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the dowager duchess scan the room impassively, eyes resting on Rey before the terrace windows slammed open.

 

“Stop her,” she heard Ben scream as she slipped outside the ballroom, panting from the exertion.

 

Her too-tight corset was almost bursting at the seams, but she brushed the discomfort aside in favor of an alternative exit. Having observed the coming and goings from her window, she knew there was more than one way to return to the back garden unseen and slip out as easily as she’d come in.

 

With a heavy heart, she hid under the stairway, watching as Ben yanked the front door open and stepped out into the street, pursued by his concerned mother and a throng of perplexed guests.

 

She watched as he turned around to face the dowager, running a hand through his hair as he breathed heavily. They spoke in hushed voices, and, soon enough, a new wave of guests poured out into the open street, barring mother and son from view.

 

Taking advantage of the commotion, she rushed to the back of the house as quietly as she’d arrived.

 

She passed once more through the back garden, pausing only briefly to stare at the spot where she had shared her first and only kiss. Tears welled in her eyes at the fresh memory, joy fused with sorrow until it became unclear where one feeling ended and the other began.

 

Sighing heavily, Rey then slipped out through a hole in the hedge fence, pacing quietly to the servants’ entrance. She was relieved to find the door unlocked, just as she’d left it, so she slipped inside the darkness and used her hands to guide her up the stairway.

 

If she focused hard enough, she could still hear the commotion in the street, a gaggle of guests too excited by the recent turn of events to keep quiet. She had little doubt that what had occurred tonight would soon make its way into the gossip rags, but she took solace in the fact that nobody would suspect who she was.

 

And she took solace that, soon enough, Ben would forget tonight had ever happened. After all, he’d only received assurance from a stranger than he was more than his lands and titles.

 

 _The message mattered_ , she told herself as she opened the door to her drafty attic. _Not the person_.

 

But, in her heart of hearts, she wished she mattered just as much. For once.

 

The attic was, as expected, bathed in darkness, save for the light of the full moon across the creaky floorboards.

 

In the safety of this dreary place, she removed her mask, placing it inside the trunk where she’d found her dress. The ill-fitting garment soon followed, neatly tucked despite having tripped her more times than she could count.

 

Then, as she unlaced her corset, Rey could not help but remark how different and exciting it would have been for Ben to be the one to do the honors, to brush his fingers against her feverish skin in a soothing gesture.

 

Tossing the corset inside the trunk, Rey could only shake her head. Dreams were all she had now.  Dreams and a kiss so searching and tender that even now she doubted it had happened. Only when she pressed the tips of her fingers against her swollen lips did she know better.

 

With a bitter smile, she removed her left shoe, fully aware that the other was now as lost to her as Ben. After placing it on top of the other garments, she closed the trunk and stepped towards the window, clad only in her plain grey chemise.

 

Placing her hand on the glass, her eyebrows furrowed at the sight which lay before her.

 

A solitary figure sat on a narrow stone bench near a destroyed rose bush, white petals scattering in the wind like leaves. His head was lowered, eyes hidden away from her inquisitive gaze. His rich hair was ruffled, and his dark attire would have blended in the night had it not been for the full moon casting its benevolent light on his hunched frame.

 

In his hands, he held her right shoe, fingers skimming over the worn heel.

 

\--


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her heart swelled with joy. “I want to come with you,” she said, extending her arm until her fingers brushed against his palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon is off, so I can freely talk about this fic! :D Thank you so much to everyone who read the first chapter. I really appreciate all the kudos and comment. Special thank you to @midnightbluefox for the prompt (I hope you like this gift) and to my beta @loveofescapism.

\--

 

He was looking for her.

 

As Rey stared down from the attic window, fingers digging into the coarse fabric of her brown skirt, she could not help the incessant pounding of her heart.

 

The gnawing feeling that if she revealed herself to him, he would only be disappointed. She was no lady – her circumstances so reduced that a union between Ben and her was nothing but impossible.

 

A duke and a scullery maid…the thought itself seemed like an aberration in her mind.

 

For a week she watched Ben anxiously pace the garden from one corner to the other, his eyes resting on the place where they had shared their midnight dance and kiss.

 

The kiss. Her  _ first  _ kiss.

 

Brushing her lips with the tips of her fingers, Rey closed her eyes briefly. Even now, her skin seemed to burn at the memory of his touch, his gentle and searching mouth as it planted the most delectable kisses on the column of her neck.

 

She saw very little of his mother in those days, stealing a few precious minutes to herself in between scrubbing to watch the events below unfold. Ben’s habit of plucking flowers for the dowager had almost vanished under the incessant need to locate the mystery woman who had inexplicably disappeared.

 

Whenever his mother emerged, Rey’s heart sank, for she always spoke of her suspicions as to the identity of the masked woman. She was usually the daughter of a titled aristocrat, or a niece about to inherit a substantial fortune.

 

She was always something Rey would never be, and the thought distressed her deeply, a sharp reminder of her own lot in life.

 

“It could be Miss McGowan,” she heard the dowager suggest as she sat down on the stone bench, watching as Ben raked a hand through his hair. “You met her at Lady Bluefox’s ball last month, if you recall.”

 

A deep sigh escaped Rey’s lips. Hearing their names was akin to taking a knife in the heart. Unwillingly, her thoughts always travelled to places she hoped never to visit. She wondered if Ben had spoken to these ladies at length, if he had asked them to dance and stroll underneath the shining stars as he had done with her.

 

She wondered, jaw clenching, if he had kissed them as well.  

 

With tears in her eyes, she sat down on a rickety chair near the window sill, catching a brief glimpse of Ben as he shook his head and contemplated the now destroyed rose bush.

 

Only a few blooms had survived the impact.

 

A brief exchange between mother and son followed, the former announcing her intent to read in the library, the latter forgoing any company for the rest of the morning. From the corner of her eye, she saw the dowager depart in a flurry of dark velvet, grasping a parasol in her hand.

 

“Rey.” The all-too-familiar gruff voice made her flinch, another reminder of the day which lay ahead.

 

Wiping away her tears, she stood up, turning around just as she saw Ben look up in her direction. For a moment, she was tempted to look over her shoulder, to catch one final glimpse of him – the windswept hair, the full lips, the pale skin dotted with beauty marks which gave an unusually sensitive appearance to a man with such a broad frame.

 

But there was no time for time that. The attic door flew open, round handle hitting against the wall so hard she was certain it had left a dent in the wallpaper.

 

In front of her stood Mr. Plutt, face red and eyes so narrowed they resembled slits.

 

“There you are,” her uncle thundered, walking towards her with menacing steps.

 

“Sir,” she said, eyes darting to the corner where she kept her supplies at hand, ready to pick them up and begin another day.

 

She never got that far.

 

Plutt’s hand closed around her left elbow, fingers digging into the worn fabric of her sleeve until they hit bone.

 

Crying out, Rey tried to pull herself away from his hold, but he was relentless, tightening his grip even further.

 

“Sitting around doing nothing again,” he bellowed. “This house won’t clean itself, you worthless ingrate.”

 

If she weren’t hurting so much, she would laugh at the absurdity of the situation: a house teeming with servants who worked just as hard as her was somehow not clean enough for her uncle. Just before dawn, she had scrubbed floors and chamber pots, taking only a few precious moments to rest before she continued with the rest of her work as she always did.

 

“I am working,” she bit out amidst the pain. “I was merely taking a break.”

 

Plutt laughed incredulously. “A break?” he said with a mocking tone, as if she had spit in his face. “A break?”

 

From below the stairs, she heard the unmistakable sound of a door breaking. Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Rey gazed at her uncle, yet his ruddy face showed no signs that he had registered the commotion.

 

“Yes,” she replied, willing herself to remain calm. “As it is normal for any person. But you have never treated me like one, have you?”

 

Something in her had broken then. Perhaps, it was the result of years spent under her uncle’s thumb, stripped of opportunities and self-worth. Perhaps it was the knowledge that her life would never improve, no matter how much she hoped and dreamed it would.

 

Her vision clouded with tears. Loud steps echoed up the staircase, growing closer and closer to where she stood.

 

“Insolent girl.” Plutt yanked her by the elbow again, causing her eyes to shut from the pain. “You are under my authority and –”

 

He never finished his sentence. As if by magic, the agonizing grasp loosened.

 

As she opened her eyes, Rey glimpsed a pair of large hands grab Plutt’s arm, pulling him away from her. She stepped to the side immediately, clutching her aching elbow and looked up.

 

_ Ben _ .

 

The sight of him was enough to cause her heart to burst. Mouth agape, she could only watch as his fist collided with her uncle’s face, hitting the man so hard he fell on top of an old trunk.

 

“Y-your Grace,” she could only murmur, stunned by his sudden appearance.

 

His hair was disheveled, and beads of sweat had gathered at his forehead from the exertion. As he looked down at her uncle’s unconscious form, Rey could not help but wonder what had prompted Ben to do such a thing.

 

“Your Grace?” she called out again, her voice steadier.

 

Panting heavily, Ben glanced in her direction, eyes widened as if he were seeing her for the first time.

 

“Rey,” he said, stepping away from her uncle. “Are you well? Did something happen? Did he hurt you?”

 

She shook her head, not quite knowing how to answer his question. “This is the first time he – ”

 

“You are not safe here,” he stated, unclenching his fist.

 

The corners of her mouth went up in a bitter smile. “I know that, Your Grace. Believe me, if I had anywhere to go, I would have left this place by now.”

 

He stepped towards her, the floorboards creaking under the weight. “You can come with me.”

 

He held out his hand, palm upwards. Glancing down, Rey blinked, not quite believing what was happening.

 

“Come with you?” she repeated, toes curling underneath her worn shoes.

 

“You are not safe here, Rey,” Ben said in a soft voice, almost as if he was pleading with her. “My mother and I can employ you.”

 

Wetting her lower lip, she glanced up, taking in his gentle gaze. It puzzled her how he could be so concerned for someone he had barely met, someone who, up until the previous week, had observed him silently through a window.

 

“This was my home once,” she said, the corners of her eyes prickling with unshed tears.

 

He gave her a confused look.

 

“The man you have just punched is my uncle. He was assigned guardianship after my father passed away several years ago,” she explained, fingers brushing against her hurt elbow.

 

The words poured out of her after that moment. The untimely death of her family, the entailment which barred her from owning the house she had grown up in, the painful demotion from lady of the house to scullery maid. All the result of her uncle’s greed.

 

Upon hearing her confession, Ben cast a disdainful look at her uncle’s unconscious body. Plutt was breathing heavily, but she doubted he would remain on the floor for long.

 

Clenching his fist, Ben faced her again with a determined gaze. “All the more reason why you should not stay.” He held out his hand again. “Do you  _ want _ to stay?”

 

She shook her head.  Just a few minutes ago, she had been contemplating the futility of her life, the dreary existence she was doomed to lead under her uncle’s thumb. Then, somehow, the beautiful man she’d admired from afar had given her an opportunity to make something of herself – to see what the world was like beyond her confinement.

 

Her heart swelled with joy. “I want to come with you,” she said, extending her arm until her fingers brushed against his palm.

 

She was almost certain his breath hitched in that moment, but as she remembered the open window, Rey decided it could have very well been the wind.

 

_ Yes, it was the wind, _ she told herself as his gaze sought hers. His eyes were searching, as if she were a mystery he wanted to decipher.

 

She took his hand and basked in its warmth.

 

 

~*~

 

 

Thirty minutes later, Rey found herself standing face to face with Ben’s mother.

 

Leia Organa-Solo, Duchess of Corellia.

 

As she stepped inside the family drawing room, Rey could not help but notice her unnerving stare – the sort of look one gave to someone who clearly had something to hide. Clad in a dark velvet gown, the duchess sat by the fireplace in a large blue armchair, holding a book in her frail hands.

 

“Go on,” she heard Ben whisper behind her. “My mother wishes to see you. I have some estate matters to attend to, but I will be with you shortly.”

 

The door behind Rey closed and, just like that she found herself alone, taking in the diminutive figure in front of her as she placed her book on a small mahogany table nearby.

 

“Come closer, dear,” the duchess said, though not unkindly.

 

Rey gave out a small sigh of relief and approached her. “Your Grace,” she curtsied.

 

Leia nodded and, with a simple wave of her hand, gestured for Rey to sit down. She obeyed, occupying the matching armchair in front.  

 

“So, you are the girl who has been watching us from the house next door.” The older woman tilted her head. “My son has told me all about you.”

 

Immediately, Rey’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. “I am sorry, Your Grace,” she replied. “I did not mean to pry.”

 

“I cannot say I blame you,” she continued, as if Rey hadn’t said anything. “Ben has a flair for the dramatic. I am certain that, had he not been a duke, he would have made a fine actor.” A deep sigh followed before she resumed speaking. “He has certainly provided the whole of London more entertainment this week than a theatre troupe could hope to accomplish in a month.”

 

“I am certain he does not mean to,” Rey assured her, her thoughts now filled with the events from the now infamous masquerade.

 

Like everyone else in London, she had read all about it in the society pages – the mad dash of the mysterious woman at the stroke of midnight, the distraught young duke running through the streets in a hopeless pursuit.

 

The subsequent balls he had attended all week, standing vigil in hopes that  _ she  _ would reappear.

 

“Oh, he certainly means to,” Leia said. “Ben is a man of action, just like his father was. Nothing my son does is by accident. His stubbornness, which I suppose you might wish to refer to as determination, runs in the family. I am guilty of that as well, I suppose.”

 

Rey glanced down at her folded hands, not quite sure what to say to that.

 

“My son tells me you are Mr. Plutt’s niece,” the duchess continued.

 

She nodded, glancing up briefly to watch as Leia’s expression shifted into one of mild curiosity. “In name, most certainly, Your Grace,” she replied.

 

“Ben has informed me of your…circumstances,” she continued. “And I undoubtedly heard the commotion next door.”

 

“I apologize for –”

 

Leia held up her hand. “You needn’t apologize for that, dear. Your uncle is a despicable person, and my son did well in bringing you here. I only wish we had known about this sooner, for your own safety.”

 

The corners of Rey’s lips curved up in a smile. Having never been at the receiving end of such kindness, it was difficult to know how to respond to it. Fidgeting in her seat, she could only utter a soft thank you, willing herself not to break down in tears in front of the duchess.

 

“My son offered you employment, from what he has told me,” Leia continued, her gaze softening. “I suppose it is up to me to decide what that might be, since he hasn’t had the foresight to marry yet.”

 

The thought of marriage swept through Rey’s body like freezing water. It went without saying that, she would accept any offer of employment. However, when first faced with the prospect of a life away from the misery she had known for so long, she had not paused to consider the repercussions of her choice.

 

Her freedom came at the cost of watching the man she loved build a life with another.

 

Ben would never find the mystery woman, for Rey would never dare reveal herself and glimpse his disappointment. Instead, eventually, like all men burdened by their legacy, he would have to relinquish that quest in the face of duty.

 

“I happen to require a lady’s companion,” she heard Leia say.

 

Setting her dilemma aside for a few brief seconds, Rey focused her attention on the woman standing in front of her.

 

“You will have an allowance of course, and you will be expected to attend social functions with me on occasion,” the duchess continued, letting her hands rest on the armchair. 

“I will ensure you have the proper dress, for your station, of course, so you will have to indulge me for a few days as we find something…” She looked Rey up and down, visibly unsure what word to use without causing injury.

 

“Suitable?” Rey provided, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

 

She was very much aware she looked a fright in her worn brown dress, the fabric faded from her constant attempts to remove stains that never seemed to go away. If the duchess squinted hard enough, Rey was certain she would be able to find the moth-eaten section just above the hem.

 

“Indeed,” the duchess said. “I will also need help with my correspondence, of course.”

 

Rey nodded. She knew how to read and write, and, deep down she was rejoicing at the prospect of taking up the habits she’d acquired before her uncle had deprived her of them.

 

“I would be honored, Your Grace,” she replied. “Thank you.”

 

Leia gave her a satisfied smile, and, for the first time, a feeling of peace settled over Rey. If she avoided Ben – and she couldn’t imagine it being difficult with her newfound position as his mother’s companion – perhaps her life would not be so difficult after all. He was a gentleman with duties that most certainly did not require her assistance.

 

He would have no cause to seek her out.

 

Despite living under the same roof, they were worlds apart. She didn’t know whether to despair or rejoice.

 

 

~*~

 

 

She spent the rest of the afternoon in the library.

 

Shortly after her conversation with Leia, the duchess dismissed her, giving Rey the opportunity to retrieve her possessions with the full assurance that Mr. Plutt would not dare trouble her while under the duke’s protection.

 

To Rey’s surprise and delight, the duchess was right. Her uncle was nowhere to be found, most likely nursing his injury and shame in some remote corner of the house.

 

In truth, Rey had no meaningful possessions to speak of. The few dresses she owned were not fit for polite society and would, without a doubt, be disposed of and replaced by clothes which her new employer deemed appropriate. Still, she folded some garments in the same trunk which hid the dress she’d worn at the masquerade, alongside the mask and the sole remaining shoe.

 

As she sat down in one of the library’s many armchairs, Rey could not help but think that, somehow, in the course of a week, the costume she had worn on that fateful evening had become part of herself – a secret identity which had emboldened her beyond her wildest expectations.

 

She did not part with it.

 

Perhaps she never would. The garment had now become her most treasured memory, a reminder of the evening she had spent with the man she longed for. A reminder of her first kiss, shared beneath the starlight.

 

The rose Ben had gifted her had not been lost, much to Rey’s relief. Now, it rested on a small table to her right, next to a slim volume she had chosen from the library.

 

Picking up the delicate flower, Rey placed it inside the leather-bound book for safekeeping. She decided that the bloom would remain there for a while – at least until she purchased a journal to record the brief evening which had changed her life.

 

Taking the book in her hand, she examined the gold lettering pressed onto the red leather, brushing her fingers against the fine foil.

 

“Pride and Prejudice,” a deep voice remarked.

 

Turning around, Rey gasped. The book almost slipped from her hands as her gaze collided with Ben’s inquisitive stare. He was standing in the doorway, arms crossed behind his back, looking every bit a gentleman in his dark waistcoat and trousers.

 

“Your Grace,” she gripped the slim volume in her hand, her short fingernails digging into the spine.

 

_ Did he see anything? _ The worrying thought filled her mind as he approached her leisurely.

 

Dragging one of the other armchairs in front of her, he sat down, his feet almost brushing the hem of her dress. She glanced down at his polished boots, marveling at how big every part of him was.

 

Her cheeks flushed a dusty shade of pink. “I hope you are not here to mock my reading preferences.”

 

“I would never dare such a thing,” he said, eyes widening.

 

“It is my favorite book,” she revealed, looking down again at the gold letters. “I suppose I am a romantic at heart.”

 

“There is nothing wrong with that,” he said. “I believe we are made from the same cloth.”

 

She gave him a soft smile, but beneath the simple gesture, the memory of the evening they had shared beneath the stars lingered. He had, for a brief time, bared his soul to her – shared his deepest insecurities without fear of judgement.

 

“Not many men would admit to having a romantic bent, Your Grace,” she remarked, watching in awe as he once again unveiled himself to her.

 

“I’m not like many men,” came his reply.

 

_ No, you’re not _ . Her blush deepened – she could feel her cheeks burning as if she were running a fever, and, for a second, Rey wondered how she looked to him in this moment. Could he, sense her regard for his person? Could he guess that the reason she had watched him from afar had nothing to do with mild curiosity?

 

“You should call me Ben,” he said, letting his elbows settle on the armrests.

Shaking her head, she brought the book to her chest, holding it tight for fear that the flower she’d hidden inside might fall. “I don’t think I should.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

 

“It wouldn’t be proper,” she replied, lips pursing. “You are a duke and I am –”

 

“A lady’s companion,” he stated, a smile playing on his lips. “I don’t find that inappropriate.”

 

“We do not know each other well enough for that.”

 

“But we  _ could _ .” Tilting his head, he leaned forward. “I thought we might become friends.”

 

A heavy weight settled in her heart. “Friends,” she croaked, helplessly witnessing how the meager defenses she had built around herself crumbled.

 

The notion that she could avoid him while under his mother employment appeared more ludicrous by the second. How could she have fooled herself into thinking that he would not seek her out after rescuing her from Mr. Plutt’s clutches?

 

“Yes,” he replied, eyebrows furrowed in visible confusion. “ _ Friends _ .”

 

She took a deep breath. “Why?”

 

“It seems to me that we have a lot of things in common.”

 

He wet his lips, and Rey watched as his glance lowered, as if he were trying to find the right words to express himself. She waited, her grip on the volume unwavering.

 

“I saw you that night,” Ben murmured just as he looked up again into her stare.

 

Reaching out, his hand brushed against her elbow, softly touching the same place which had been injured early in the morning. As if entranced, Rey let go of the volume, placing it in her lap. Her throat dried out, anticipation filling her senses as his fingers danced against the worn sleeve of her dress in a soothing motion.

 

She didn’t have the courage to reveal herself.

 

But he  _ could. _

 

His gaze was filled with a certainty that left her heart pounding, the sound so loud she was almost certain he could hear it – despite how impossible that was.

 

He knew.

 

The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, and it was only the warmth of his hand on her elbow that kept her upright. How else could she explain the determination beneath his soulful gaze?

 

He was iron, wrapped in the finest velvet.

 

“Rey,” Ben spoke at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

_ Yes _ , she wanted to scream.  _ I am the masked woman who waltzed with you underneath the moonlight. The one who ran away when the clock struck twelve. The one who lost her shoe at the foot of the stairs. _

 

But he had to say it first. He  _ had _ to.

 

“Rey.” He took a deep breath, eyes fixed upon her expectant face. “I need you to help me find her.”

 

Her dreams were made of glass. And in that moment, they had shattered.

 

“ _ Her _ ?” she murmured, wondering if he could hear her heart break.

 

His hand moved to touch her own, enveloping it in its warmth. “Yes,” he replied, voice tinged with determination. “When it ended, I saw you at the window. Just for a second, but it was  _ you _ .”

 

She shook her head, tears prickling at her eyes.

 

“Please do not lie to me,” he pleaded, his eyes softening even further. “You saw everything, I am certain. You saw where she went and…”

 

“I don’t know how you think I can help you – ”

 

“I don’t know what else to do,” he continued, gently rubbing his thumb against her knuckles.

 

Letting out a deep sigh, she wondered if Ben was even mildly aware of his gestures, and the effect they had on her – the tremors that washed over her frame like a wave, delight mixed with sorrow.

 

“I tried looking for her far and wide. I’ve attended every ball and outing in hopes that I might catch a glimpse of her. That perhaps I might recognize her voice, or her gait.”

 

_ He does not remember me. Not really. _

 

The disappointing thought took root deep in her mind, spreading its tendrils like poison. Of course, she’d spoken mostly in a low voice that evening, afraid that he might recognize her as the scullery maid he’d conversed with hours before. But, as she replayed the events of the entire day in her mind, there was many ways in which she had not hidden her identity.

 

_ He could have recognized me. If he had truly looked at me. If he had truly listened to what I had to say. _

 

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she brushed it away with her free hand before he could see it. “Your Grace –”

 

“Perhaps, you might help me,” he insisted, squeezing her palm as gentle as if she were made of porcelain. “ _ You _ , dear Rey, with your brilliant mind, and powers of observation.”

 

Rey let out a bitter laugh. In that moment, something inside her snapped, giving away like fragile stitching under a forceful tug.

 

“I cannot find her for you,” she said, her voice harsh.

 

Still, Ben’s gentle grasp never wavered. “Advise me, then,” he insisted, every inch a duke. A man of status who expected to be obeyed.

 

Her head snapped up. “I am starting to believe that nobody has ever said no to you in your entire life.”

 

“You are under my employment.”

 

“Your mother’s employment,” she corrected in a firm tone. “Not yours. I do not owe you my time.”

 

His eyebrows rose in what she could only describe as disbelief. The gesture, albeit silent, filled her with anger – deepening the flush which had spread across her cheeks.  

Suspicion crept in her mind, spreading through her frame until it sank its talons into her tender heart.

 

With a measured voice, she gave voice to it. “Did you save me from my uncle because you were concerned for my safety, or because you needed my help?”

 

She might as well have slapped him. His expression darkened as anger and hurt fused. “Is that what you think of me?”

 

For a moment, Rey’s heart softened. Judging by his wounded expression, she had received her answer already. Still, despite that, she realized that even though she’d watched him from afar for years, she did not know him.

 

Not really.

 

“I don’t know what I think of you,” she replied, brushing her distress aside. She wanted the reassurance that he had saved her out of concern – that, despite her unfortunate circumstances, he cared.

 

“I rescued you because I was worried for your safety,” he told her, eyes locked with hers. “When I heard him speak to you like that…” His fist clenched, and he paused to gather himself before resuming. “I cannot explain what came over me. It was as if my vision had clouded until I could see nothing but  _ you _ .”

 

A warm, fluttering sensation spread in her lower belly. Taking a deep breath, Rey willed herself to calm down, to resist the temptation to smile at his statement. Her cheeks were still flaming hot, but their state was no longer solely the product of the anger which had taken hold of her.

 

Fixing him with what she hoped was an impervious look, she continued, “But my being here does benefit you, of course.”

 

“Yes,” Ben replied, his pale skin now tinged with a slight blush. “I cannot lie to you about that. It was only after I brought you here that I realized you might be able to help me.”

 

Looking into his gaze, she could glimpse his earnestness plainly, his brown eyes glistening. His features had softened, full lips parting slightly as he exhaled.

 

But she could not give in. His search, despite its noble intentions, would only lead to disappointment.

 

“Do you know why I like  _ Pride and Prejudice  _ so much?” Rey asked, removing her hand from his grasp and letting it rest on top of the volume. As soon as she did, a chill swept through her.

 

Ben lowered his eyes, visibly pondering her question. “Because you are a romantic at heart,” he answered at last, though his voice lacked its usual certainty.

 

“No,” she said. “The romance is charming, of course.” Her lips curled up into a smile. “I am certain every destitute young woman dreams of being whisked away from the dreary existence she knows and thrust into a life of ease and comfort. But my love for this book does not solely lie in its power to make me hope for something better.”

 

He glanced up, suddenly rapt with attention. “What is the other reason?”

 

“I like it because it also informs me on how deceiving first impressions can be.”

 

With that, she stood up, holding the book to her chest, pressing the flower hidden between its pages until she was certain it would never escape. “I had formed an impression of you from afar, Your Grace, and now that I have the opportunity to speak with you, I find that you are very disappointing.”

 

Turning away from him, she glanced at the open doorway. The corridor was heavily decorated with portraits, exquisitely painted to immortalize the generations long past – men and women with sumptuous clothing and jewels, with powdered wigs and ruffled collars.

 

It was a beautiful sight. Yet, despite its richness, it was sparse. “I suppose disappointment is something wealth and rank cannot fix. I must admit it pleases me immensely.”

 

“Disappointing,” Ben said, as if he were only now registering the full weight of her words.

 

She looked over her shoulder. “You need not be alarmed, Your Grace. The novel also tells us that one’s conduct can improve in time. Perhaps there is a chance for you after careful reflection.”

 

Much to her surprise, he chuckled, his face lighting up at the insult. “I do believe this is the first time someone has criticized me for my rank.”

 

“The second,” Rey amended, confusion seizing her as she took in his peculiar reaction.

 

Pausing for a moment, she let out a deep sigh, a simple attempt to gather her wits. When she spoke, her voice was lowered, as if she were imparting a delicate secret.

 

“I will give you a piece of advice, Your Grace” she said, observing the strangely endearing way in which his eyes sparkled.

 

Even when he infuriated her, he somehow managed to remain stupidly attractive and intriguing. From afar, Ben had been an object of desire, an unattainable dream, and a paragon of romance and chivalry. But now, as he stood before her, she could glimpse the flaws and oddities of a complicated man who, up until this moment, had never been challenged.

 

And, much to her surprise, the flaws appealed tremendously.

 

“I will take any advice you wish to give,” he replied, his voice impossibly gentle.

 

Biting her lip, Rey wondered how everything had become so complicated. She turned around to face him. “Whatever impression you have formed of that mysterious woman is not accurate to who she really is.”

 

He regarded her with an intrigued expression, his brown gaze deepening so intensely it was as if they were the only people in the world. The thought sent a warm tingle down her spine.

 

“What makes you say that?” he inquired with the voice of a genuinely curious man.

 

“The interesting thing about masquerades is that they give us the luxury to pretend that we are someone else,” she replied, the corners of her lips curling up in a wistful smile. “At least for one night. As soon as the mask comes off, disappointment follows.”  

 

He clenched his jaw, as if weighing her reply in earnest. “I don’t think I will be disappointed,” he said in a low voice, yet one that was tinged with certainty.

 

She walked away then, pausing just under the doorway to look at him one last time. “We shall see.”

 

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I included some special cameos from @midnightbluefox and @loveofescapism as a thank you :D. I couldn't resist! :P
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I value all your lovely comments and kudos, so please don't hesitate to leave some if you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Let them see.' A stray whisper slithered inside her mind. 'Let them see you claim him. He has never left with anyone else.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update at last! Thank you so much for the patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter.  
> Special thank you to my beta @loveofescapism.  
> And, to @midnightbluefox, I hope you enjoy the cameos lmao.

\--

 

He was dancing.

 

Under any other normal circumstances, the thought would not have bothered Rey much. A well-mannered gentleman always danced if there were ladies in attendance who were sitting down without a partner. And, after having observed Ben for years from her small window in the attic – as well as an additional fortnight spent under his roof pretending not to care about his whereabouts – Rey did not doubt he was a gentleman as well. Everything about him, from his thoughtful mannerisms at dinner, to that inquisitive look he gave her whenever he was deeply absorbed in conversation, betrayed it.

 

However, when dancing involved the fruitless pursuit for the mystery woman who had captivated him so thoroughly, Rey could not help the twinge of sorrow which swept over her.

 

Sitting down in one of the many empty chairs near the ballroom, she watched as Ben danced with yet another young and eligible lady, the seventh thus far – not that she’d been counting. But, when part of her responsibilities as a lady’s companion involved accompanying her employer to social functions, she could not help but observe what her employer’s son was doing.

 

Now they found themselves at yet another ball organized by Lady Bluefox, who lived a life of leisure – dedicated to either hosting social gatherings or pampering her infamous cats. At present, Ben was dancing with a Miss Lindsay, one of many young heiresses present at such an event.

 

All of Ben’s partners wore beautiful dresses: vibrant yellows and blues and delicate pinks and purples, all of which swayed with each movement like flower petals in the spring breeze. Not one of them had a curl out of place or a freckle dotting their rosy cheeks. They were wealthy and titled, well-mannered and equally well-connected.

 

They were everything Rey knew she was not.

 

Including the woman Ben was looking for. The mysterious woman was her, but at the same time…she wasn’t.

 

“Foolish boy,” she heard Leia mutter. “Looking for ghosts without using his mind instead.”

 

Turning to the side, Rey watched as the dowager approached her. “Your Grace,” she nodded in greeting, the corner of her eye still focused on Ben and his partner.

 

“This cannot be easy for you,” Leia continued, gesturing in her son’s direction.

 

A shiver ran down Rey’s spine.

 

_ Does she know? _

 

The thought took hold of her instantly, and it took a few seconds for Rey to compose herself, letting her hands rest on her lap in a mock picture of decorum. “I don’t understand.”

 

Leia tilted her head to the side. “This ball,” she said, a smirk etched on her face. “You are not enjoying yourself, are you?”

 

Her cheeks flared up in embarrassment, but inside she breathed a sigh of deep relief. “You must think I am terribly ungrateful, Your Grace.”

 

Despite the reprieve, Rey could not deny the gratitude she felt towards her new employer. Her once dreary life had changed in a myriad of ways, and in two weeks, she had seen more of the world than ever before. Living in her uncle’s house, she had been virtually a prisoner, deprived of companionship and opportunity. But now, under the duchess’ protection, she had blossomed somewhat, inching closer and closer to the life which was once stolen from her.

 

But, as she observed Ben dance with a serene expression etched on his handsome face, Rey could not deny the nagging thought that what she truly wanted would always remain just out of reach. That no matter the number of balls she attended, she was simply masquerading as someone else.

 

Someone of wealth and consequence. The new wardrobe commissioned for her by the duchess merely disguised what was always there.

 

“We should get you a dancing instructor,” the duchess said instead, her eyes softening as she sat down on an empty chair. “I should have thought of that before I dragged you with me to all these balls and soirees.”

 

Rey shook her head. “I am a lady’s companion, Your Grace,” Rey protested, fingers curling against her new skirt, a cream-colored gown she had insisted be as unadorned as possible. “Not a debutante. Even I know that dancing is not a requirement in this profession.”

 

“Then, I shall make it a must,” Leia insisted, eyes darting in her son’s direction as the dance drew to a close.

 

Letting out a soft smile, Rey shook her head. From the moment she had entered Leia’s service, the duchess had treated her as a protégé as opposed to an employee. She’d given Rey a place at the family’s dinner table and commissioned an entire new wardrobe from the finest modiste in London.  

 

And Ben had approved it all, happily footing the bill while delivering the latest novels into her eager hands, be it at breakfast or tea, or after returning from an afternoon stroll through Hyde Park, linking arms with his mother as if they were friends. He always brought her books and then asked her what she thought of each, listening to her yammer on end about each volume as if her opinions were worth more than his weight in gold.

 

Such kindness, was almost unheard of, and many times Rey chastised herself for fear that she would enjoy it  _ too  _ much, that she would get used to it before misfortune snatched it away, like it always did.

 

“Have I missed anything?” a deep voice interrupted her reverie.

 

Glancing up, Rey found herself staring at Ben’s inquisitive gaze, arms wrapped behind his back in a relaxed stance. No matter the time of day, he was always startling to behold – a tall and imposing presence dressed in dark colors which matched the inky hue of his wavy locks, but which contrasted with the paleness of his skin and the gentle way in which he tilted his head to the side, as if he were staring at a mystery he yearned to solve.

 

“Ah, here you are,” Leia exclaimed, the corners of her lips going up in a smile. “I was lamenting the fact that I haven’t thought to seek out a dancing instructor for Rey.”

 

Her cheeks flamed anew, dark pink flushes which spread across her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, Rey caught glimpse of a mirror, and could only helplessly watch as the blush made its way down to her cleavage, unable to be disguised by her freckles and tanned complexion.

 

“Dancing is not difficult to master, Rey,” Ben said, his eyes scanning her from head to foot. The movement caused her blush to deepen, so much so that the heat of the ballroom became almost too much to bear. “I will gladly show you how easy it is. Dance with me.”

 

Dance with him...like so many others had done before. Dance and pray their interlude matched the one they had shared in the garden all those weeks ago. Dance and watch as his hopeful expression shifted into one of disappointment when she could not live up to the fantasy he had built up in his mind. Share a brief moment of bliss before it is snatched away.

 

Toes curling underneath her slippers, Rey cleared her throat. “Thank you for the generosity, Your Grace,” she said, turning to face the duchess before locking eyes with her son. “But I cannot accept either offer.”

 

“Why not?” Ben’s deep voice asked, his tone almost offended that she had rejected him.

 

A chuckle left Rey’s lips before she could stop it, spurred by the memory of the day in which he had asked her to help him find the mystery woman. “You are still unaccustomed to being refused, I see.”

 

“T-that’s not true,” he protested, his own cheeks tinged by a soft pink hue.

 

Beside her, Rey heard Leia stifle a laugh of her own. “I have raised a very stubborn son, I am afraid,” she said, her hand reaching out to hold Rey’s affectionately. “Indeed, your stubbornness seems to match his own, my dear.”

 

“Y-your Grace.” It was now Rey’s turn to stutter, unable to form a coherent sentence to save herself.

 

Shaking her head, the duchess stood up. “I must pay my respects to our gracious host,” she said, turning away from them. “I will let the two of you decide what to do,” she continued, muttering something about complications, her expectations and the stubbornness of youth, a combination of words that Rey could not, for the like of her, make out.

 

Ben took his mother’s seat, gaze fixed upon her face, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why won’t you dance with me? Have I offended you?”

 

His voice was soft this time, like the warm caresses he’d given her on the night they’d danced beneath the moonlight, the gentle kisses he’d placed across her jawline. Wetting her lips, she watched as his body leaned forward with rapt attention, despite the public setting they found themselves in. She heard the sounds of a new waltz commencing, and knew it was not too late join.

 

_ Yes. No. _ “It is complicated,” she said at last, palms neatening her new dress.

 

“We have time,” Ben countered in that same gentle voice of his. His hands moved to rest on his knees, so close against her skirt they almost brushed the fabric.

 

Looking down at his movements, she weighed her options. Would it hurt to open herself to him just once, to give him a glimpse into her fears? During the masquerade she had done just that, but the mask had made her bold, willing to bare herself to him when she thought they would never have a chance to speak again.

 

But now, they were living under the same roof, crossing paths every single day, exchanging pleasantries with him as he exchanged small gifts that made her heart yearn for him even further, completely oblivious to who she really was.

 

“I have never had the opportunity to learn how to dance,” she began, carefully weighing her words, recalling how they had spoken of the same thing during the masquerade, careful not to let her words betray her.

 

That night, she had been floating on top of a cloud, their conversation hazy from the emotions which had taken hold of her.

 

“I know,” he replied, his lips etched with a smile. “If you fear embarrassment, I assure you that is not my intention.”

 

“I could never accuse you of that,” came her quick reply. “I know you don’t have any ulterior motives.”

 

“Then why?” Ben insisted, his jaw clenching with an odd emotion, as if her reply weighed heavily on him for some odd reason.

 

A brief silence descended over them, the noises coming from the ballroom completely forgotten. Even the pleasant music had disappeared as Rey focused instead on Ben’s cravat and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

 

“Nothing good ever lasts,” she finally said, her voice firm. “Your kindness, your mother’s kindness…it would be a mistake to get accustomed to this life.”

 

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed as Ben raised one of his hands, fingertips brushing over her skirt before he quickly withdrew them, as if he had suddenly recalled where they were.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

She swallowed heavily, lips parted as she gazed around them. Fortunately, the other guests were preoccupied with other matters, too busy to observe an exchange occurring right underneath their noses, in a setting that was nothing if not proper. If they had left the room together, perhaps they might notice, Rey pondered. Perhaps they might notice Ben’s broad frame and shoulders as he escorted a young, unmarried lady elsewhere.

 

_ Let them see _ . A stray whisper slithered inside her mind.  _ Let them see you claim him. He has never left with anyone else. _

 

Dancing was a skill she had never had the opportunity to master, despite the brief waltz she had shared with Ben underneath the moonlight.  Yet, a strange yearning to feel his warm caress washed over her like a wave, pushing away all rational thoughts in the face of sheer longing.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied at last, glancing up to look at his face.

 

His eyes had somehow darkened, or perhaps it was just the intensity of his stare leading her into thinking this.

 

She could not tell.

 

He bit his lower lip. “It does to me, Rey,” he spoke in low voice. “I want you to be happy here.”

 

She shook her head, refusing to let his words seep into her heart. Yet, the furious pounding in her chest was enough to let her know how badly she was failing.

 

He would always be there.

 

The ballroom’s walls seemed to close in on her then. The heat of the room, the number of couples, the shrill voices and instruments suddenly became clear again – and they were too much, too loud, too persistent.

 

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her frame raked by a torrent of emotions. “Dancing with you will not make me happy, Your Grace,” she bit out before she could think better of it. “You should go back to your ladies instead.”

 

She stood up, her skirt brushing against his knees. “You should make them try her shoe and see if it fits.”

 

Ben’s eyes widened then, and Rey slapped a hand against her mouth, the words she’d uttered finally sinking in. As his mouth parted, she knew she could not stand and wait for the words to come out. Whatever he might say…would break her. Of that she was certain.

 

_ Nothing good ever lasts. _

 

The words she had uttered not long ago flooded back into her mind, and she gathered up her skirt, enough to ensure she would not trip over her legs.

 

“Rey,” he murmured, his voice close to a whisper. His broad frame had stilled, shoulders squared.

 

She did not stay long enough to hear him speak again. Instead, she did what she did best. What had served her well the first time around.

 

She ran.

 

 

~*~

 

 

She sought refuge in Lady Bluefox’s library.

 

The room was surprisingly cozy despite its location, so removed from the ballroom it might as well have been at the other end of the world. The fireplace roared, spreading its warmth across the small chamber, shining a dim light on the tall shelves resting against the opposite wall, lined with books of various lengths and sizes. There was a small green settee across the entrance, right in front of a window framed by long purple curtains which kissed the carpeted floor. Two cats slept peacefully on the settee, the first a small tiger-striped one, the second a larger feline with splotches of black and white.  

 

Rey envied them.

 

Closing the door behind her, she neared one of the bookshelves, studying the tomes in an effort to quell her pounding heart. Her chest rose with each breath from the exertion, having run across the entire mansion in order to escape the stifling ballroom.

 

To escape the predicament that she had fashioned herself. To escape the man with the furrowed brow and plump lips she had left in her wake.

 

“Ben won’t find me here,” she muttered, picking up one of the slimmer volumes from the shelf.

 

Approaching the settee, she watched as the cats slumbered together, unbothered by the agitation at the other end of the house and Rey’s sudden entrance into their peaceful haven. Sitting down next to the two felines, she glanced down at the book she had chosen.

 

_ A Midsummer Night’s Dream _ .

 

As she read the title, she snorted. A most unfortunate choice could not have been made. It was as if the universe had decided to mock her by letting her choose a play filled to the brim with couples and romantic entanglements, a story that ended with not one, but  _ three _ weddings. Opening the volume, she scanned the list of characters, pausing over the names of each pair. The King and Queen of Fairies, at odds in a turbulent marriage; the Duke and the Amazon, mere days away from a wedding forged in bloodshed; the two younger couples, travelling through the forest of Athens under the effect of a love potion, wondering if the night they had spent amongst the trees was a figment of their imagination.

 

“What are you reading?”

 

The voice she knew so well interrupted her thoughts. The volume slipped from her hand and fell on the carpeted floor, waking up the two cats. They looked up at her briefly before resuming their slumber, stretching on their half of the settee as if they owned it.

 

_ Perhaps they do _ , the thought echoed in Rey’s mind before she glanced up at last.

 

She saw Ben stand at the entrance, pausing briefly before he closed the door behind him. She had been so absorbed by the play that she hadn’t even heard him open it.

 

This time around, he had caught up to her. She wore no mask to cover her identity, she had no knowledge of the neighborhood to slip out undetected and return home unharmed.  

 

“Your Grace,” she acknowledged him with a weak voice, her fingers resting on the edge of the settee as he approached her.

 

“Rey,” he simply whispered, as if he’d uttered a terrible secret. Bending down on one knee, he picked up the book she’d dropped, fingers brushing against the hem of her dress.

 

“The seat is taken,” she spoke as he inspected the cover, gesturing weakly at the slumbering felines, even though he could not see her.

 

“This seat is as good as any,” he responded, planting his other knee on the floor in front of her, as if she were some sort of goddess worthy of being worshipped.

 

The thought was so ridiculous to her mind she struggled to contain a snort.

 

Looking up at her face, Ben gave her a weak smile, placing the volume on her lap like one would a sacred offering.

 

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he murmured, the tips of his fingers brushing the gold letters written on the cover, the volume so slim it was almost buried by her voluminous skirt. His hands were so close to her thighs that it was easy to picture him caressing the fabric itself, large palms branding the skin underneath with heat.

 

Looking away, she swallowed, watching as her own hands gripped the settee until her knuckles whitened, quelling the need to place them above his own. With a trembling breath, she attempted to subdue the desire to trace his long fingers and rub her thumb across his knuckles, to slip her own fingers underneath the sleeves of his pristine shirt and rest them on his wrists to feel the steady sound of his pulse.

 

_ Would the beating of his heart be steady? _ Rey wondered as he withdrew his hand from the book and let it rest on the edge of the settee, inches away from her fingers. His other hand did the same, trapping her between his strong arms.

 

She could not run away now. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation mixed with apprehension.

 

“I am in the mood for some light reading, Your Grace,” she replied in a feeble attempt to avoid the scene she had made only minutes before.

 

His lips curled up in a smile. “You are not fond of dancing,” he uttered instead, fixing her with a knowing stare, one that plainly said her attempts at deflection were useless.

 

“I am fond of reading,” Rey answered, unwilling to take his bait. She knew she could not allow him to broach the topic again, to inquire about her outburst.

 

Her jealousy.

 

When the word finally materialized in her head, she let out a deep breath. In her heart of hearts, she knew the true reason for her surge of emotion. The fear that her happiness would be temporary was still there, but it still stemmed from watching Ben chase all the ladies he thought could be the mysterious woman, dance with them as if that somehow would unlock this terrible enigma.

 

She was jealous of them.

 

But, most importantly, she was jealous of herself. Of what she had turned into on that night and could never replicate now that the masks were off and all she had was her own person.

 

She would never be enough.

 

“I should take you to the theatre one day,” he spoke, his eyes searching, as if daring her to look into them without hesitation. “So, you can see the play for yourself.”

 

She focused on one of his moles – the beautiful brown dots that kissed his skin as if mocking her for what she could never have. “I have read it before, Your Grace, and have formed my opinion on it.”

 

He tilted his head, as he always did whenever she said something that intrigued him. “And what did you think?”

 

“I found it terribly depressing,” she said, exhaling heavily as if the admission pained her. “For a comedy that claims to be filled with romance at least.”

 

Eyebrows furrowed, Ben took in her words, mulling over them as if she had said something revolutionary. The thought was so ludicrous to her mind that Rey almost laughed. She had simply stated her opinion, not made a scholarly claim worthy of the classrooms of Eton.

 

“You do not believe in the love the characters profess for one other,” he concluded.

 

“I do not,” she admitted, her hold on the settee loosening as she gathered her thoughts. Wetting her lips, she let out a deep breath. “Do you truly believe the Duke of Athens and the Queen of the Amazons are in love with one another? Do you believe they are happy with their arrangement?”

 

He looked down at the book in her lap, clearly mulling over the question, recalling his own reading of the text. “He certainly seems more enthusiastic than she is.”

 

“ _ I woo’d thee with my sword, And won thy love doing thee injuries _ ,” she quoted. “The Duke is happy with the marriage, but what of his future wife? She is his prisoner of war, a prize. And he is unfaithful to her, on top of everything.” Biting her lower lip, she continued. “I fail to see any joy in that marriage.”

 

“Unfaithful?” he asked, brow furrowed, clearly not remembering that particular detail.

 

“Act II,” she pointed out, taking the book in her hands and flipping through the pages until she found the passage she’d been looking for. With a smile of triumph, she showed him the extract, a conversation between the king and queen of fairies and their own troubled history.

 

“Oberon and Titania,” he mused, scanning over the pages she’d displayed before she closed the book and set it down on her lap again. “Another miserable couple. You are right.”

 

“Is anyone genuinely in love in this play?” she asked, her hands gripping the edge of the settee anew, so close to his fingers she could almost feel the heat of his skin seep through her.

 

“The two younger couples?” he inquired, his voice visibly uncertain.

 

A triumphant smile graced her face. “Is Demetrius genuinely in love with Helena? First he woos her, then he abandons her for another women, and then, after one day spent in the woods, he is in love with her again. That type of man cannot be reliable, if his feelings shift course as often as the wind blows.”

 

Ben worked his jaw. “So, you believe his love is an illusion? Merely the result of the love potion?”

 

“Of course,” she replied, her voice loud enough to wake up the two cats sleeping next to her. They yawned lazily, stretching into another comfortable position before sleep claimed them again, oblivious to the debate going on just inches away.

 

Lowering his gaze, Ben paused, visibly deep in thought. When he glanced up again, his eyes bore into hers with a softness that was disarming. “Have you paused to consider that perhaps he had made a mistake? That, perhaps, the events which transpired in the woods made him realize what was always right in front of him.”

 

“A mistake?” she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing with outrage. “He spurns her at every turn, he fills her with  _ anguish _ and  _ jealousy _ –”

 

Rey paused, the rest of the words stuck in her throat.

 

She was no longer talking about the play.

 

When Ben spoke, all color drained from her face.

 

“I never planned to make you jealous, Rey.”

 

 

~*~

 

 

“Rey,” he called her name, his voice so far away she almost couldn’t distinguish it from the myriad of voices screaming at her to leave.

 

To run as she always did.

 

It had worked well enough the first time. The second time had failed, but the third would be when all her misfortune turned into something else.

 

“I-I should leave,” she croaked, fingers digging into the settee.

 

But she was trapped.

 

Trapped by Ben’s strong arms and his disarming gaze.

 

“Look at me,” he pleaded, surprisingly enough, with the voice of a man who was now certain she might refuse him, despite the fact that he now held all the cards. “Please look at me, Rey.”

 

She shook her head, listening as he breathed deeply.

 

“I did not dance with the other ladies because I wanted to make you jealous,” he spoke, his hands inching closer to where hers rested.

 

She watched as they moved, closer and closer until only the slightest movement stood between his fingers and her skin.

 

_ I do not care about you enough for that. _ Her mind supplied the answer. The rejection.

 

“It is impolite for a gentleman to remain seated when there are ladies left without a partner,” Ben continued, his tone becoming more and more stable as he revealed his reasoning.

 

His answer should have relieved her. He had not set out with malicious intents, to tempt her with something she would never have. How could she have believed him capable of that for even one second? From the moment she had watched him dance for the seventh time, she had remarked how much of a gentleman he was.

 

_ He asked you to dance for the same reason. He was merely being polite. _

 

“Of course,” she murmured. The answer had always been there. And, in her own brand of stubbornness, she had refused to see it.

 

“I should have asked you to dance first,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”

 

Shaking her head, she glanced up enough to focus on his lips, so impossibly plump and soft. She had kissed them once.

 

She would never kiss them again.

 

“You do not have to ask for my apology,” she replied, watching as he swallowed heavily. “You were merely being polite.”

 

He let out a bitter laugh. “I wasn’t,” came the admission, a steady voice against the flame roaring in the fireplace, bathing him in warm light. “I could never be merely polite when it comes to dancing with you, Rey.”

 

Perplexed, she looked into his eyes at last, stunned by how they glistened in the firelight. “I don’t understand.”

 

“That was the last waltz before midnight,” he said, the corners of his mouth going up in a wistful smile. “I saved it for you. Because I wanted to dance with you for the pleasure of it.”

 

The admission robbed her of breath. She could only stare into his brown gaze, too stunned to move. Dimly, she registered the warmth of large palms engulfing her smaller hands, unclenching them from the settee.

 

“I can’t dance,” she said with a trembling voice.

 

“You can,” he insisted, his hands squeezing hers in gentle reassurance. “You have done it before. Don’t you remember?”

 

_ Don’t you remember? _

 

The words seeped into her skin, travelling through her like a shiver which raked her frame. Goosebumps dotted her arms, and not even the heat of his palms could quell the reaction.

 

“I know it was you, Rey,” he said, removing her hands from the settee until they rested on her lap, on top of the slim book they had discussed just minutes ago.

 

Her lips parted, but only a whisper came out. “Ben.”

 

He covered her hands with his own. “I’ve always known.”

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed this update, please do not hesitate to leave kudos and comments. They keep this writer motivated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She exhaled heavily, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Watching as she bit the inside of her cheek, Ben could not help but wonder what she might say. All along he had wanted Rey to be the one to say it, to be the one to claim him and say she had stolen his heart, to admit to herself that she deserved something other than the life her uncle had given her.
> 
> To choose him of her own volition because she could. Because she had that luxury while away from those who sought to suppress her freedom.
> 
> But she hadn’t.
> 
> And, until tonight’s ball, he thought she had only wanted him for that one magical evening beneath the stars, until he’d made her succumb to jealousy without even realizing it.
> 
> “I am a cruel man,” he said, the consequences of his stubborn intentions dawning on him, crashing against his mind like a wave against a jagged cliff. “I should not have put you through this. I should have told you, from the start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here! The final chapter to my Victorian Cinderella AU, which I could not have written without @midnightbluefox's amazing prompt. Thank you! I hope you like the fic, and I assure you that the cats are fine! Thank you also to my beta @loveofescapism, who somehow survived reading my ramblings.

\--

 

“Ben.”

 

She repeated his name in utter disbelief, and her trembling voice tugged at his heartstrings. 

 

“You are jesting,” Rey said, tears welling in her hazel eyes. 

 

The kind gaze that he knew betrayed just how much she failed to see her true worth.

 

How could she doubt, for even one second that he hadn’t noticed her? That he had not spent the last fortnight pining for her, giving her books to read and making sure all her needs were taken care of? Each action had been designed to show Rey that he had come to care for her as more than a masked enigma. 

 

He’d used all these actions to make her admit the truth that she’d tried to hide from him all along.

 

“I am not jesting,” he replied, squeezing her small hands in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “I spent an entire week after the ball trying to get to you, not knowing how to approach the topic with your family.” 

 

Taking a deep breath, he focused on her gaze, watching as she blinked her tears away, always knowing how to rely on her own strength. “From the start, I had the feeling that nobody was aware you attended the masquerade. I tossed and turned each night thinking how to proceed. Until…”

 

“Until what?” she asked, her voice a trembling whisper.

 

“Until I saw your uncle for what he really was, and knew I could not be gentlemanly when it came to courting you. I could not come and leave my card and wait for your uncle to come and pay his respects to me, then ask for me to visit him in return. I had to remove you from his violence, no matter what.”

 

“All this time, you were courting me?” She wet her lips, parting them in perpetual shock.

 

Tilting his head, he regarded her sun-kissed complexion and the beautiful pink blush which bloomed across her cheeks. From the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed the sleeping cats near Rey stir, eyes parting softly as they lounged on the settee. 

 

“What do you think my gifts were, Rey?”  

 

“Kindness,” she replied in a matter of fact tone. “A kind gesture to the person your mother hired for companionship.”

 

“My gestures were born of kindness, I suppose.” He worked his jaw, his heart pounding in his chest with nervous energy. “But they also stemmed from something else.”

 

She exhaled heavily, her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Watching as she bit the inside of her cheek, Ben could not help but wonder what she might say. All along he had wanted Rey to be the one to say it, to be the one to claim him and say she had stolen his heart, to admit to herself that she deserved something other than the life her uncle had given her. 

 

To choose him of her own volition because she could. Because she had that luxury while away from those who sought to suppress her freedom.

 

But she hadn’t. 

 

And, until tonight’s ball, he thought she had only wanted him for that one magical evening beneath the stars, until he’d made her succumb to jealousy without even realizing it.

 

“I am a cruel man,” he said, the consequences of his stubborn intentions dawning on him, crashing against his mind like a wave against a jagged cliff. “I should not have put you through this.  I should have told you, from the start.”

 

“You asked me to help you find her.” An errant tear fell down her cheek, and he lifted his hand to brush it away with his thumb, conscious of the pain his maneuvering had caused.

 

However, Rey shook her head, rejecting his touch. Her hands followed suit, and she let them rest on the edge of the settee. Powerless, he placed his hands on his thighs, still kneeling on the carpeted floor.

 

Begging for her forgiveness.

 

“I am sorry,” he said, and, in his heart of hearts, hoped she could see that he meant it.

 

She took a deep breath before parting her lips. “You have no idea how much it saddened me to believe you never remembered me. That the evening we spent together was so unimportant to you, when it meant  _ everything  _ to me.”

 

“Rey–”

 

She held her hand up, silencing him. “I spent years pining for you, wishing you would one day deign to speak to a mere scullery maid, even if by chance. When we first talked on the day of the ball, I thought it was a dream.”

 

“I saw you. I knew you had been watching me,” he replied, feeling as his cheeks bloomed with a deep shade of red, recalling how intrigued and concerned she’d looked, staring from her attic window. “I told you as much.”

 

“You saw me, but you didn’t  _ see me _ ,” Rey conceded, but her gaze burned bright. “Your vision dimmed quickly afterwards, when you sought me out as a friend to help you on a quest you knew was false.”

 

The words were like a dagger piercing his heart. In his desire to have her, he had not paid any mind to the consequences of his rash decisions. “It was never my intention to make you feel like you didn’t matter,” he said, his voice raked with emotion. 

 

The two lounging felines stood then, eyes narrowed as if in judgement. Siding with their wounded companion. 

 

“What was your intention then, Ben?” she asked, tilting her chin up in challenge. “Because everything you said the day you rescued me proved the opposite.”

 

“I wanted you to confess,” he answered, his hands moving to rest against her own, praying she would not reject him again. The truth was all he had. “I wanted you to choose me of your own free will, to get over the false impression that you are not worthy of anything...of me.”

 

Rey stilled, and as he gazed at her face, he could see his words seep into her mind. He could see how she took it all in, her eyebrows arching, her lips parting slowly before the tip of her tongue darted out to wet them.

 

“I love you, Rey,” Ben continued, his breath uneven, desperate to get the words off his chest while he still could, fearful that she might disappear at every moment. “I love your brilliant mind, and the passion which runs through your veins, I love your temper, your stubborn nature and the gentleness that lurks beneath.” 

 

“Ben…” she whispered, her lithe frame trembling.

 

“You are worthy of  _ so _ much, yet you refuse to see your worth,” he added, bringing her hand to his lips. “You refuse to see that someone might love you despite the circumstances you’d been given.”

 

Kissing the knuckles, he looked into her eyes, taking in her softening gaze. “If I have to spend our whole lives showing you how much I value you, how much your presence improves the world, I gladly will. For it can only mean that I will get to be beside you every day.”

 

“That sounds like a very long time,” she mused, yet there was no judgement in her voice. No fear, no doubt. Just awe, likely, he suspected, the result of counting all the years they had ahead. 

 

Her lips curled up into a smile, a small gesture that, nonetheless, emboldened him to continue.

 

“That sounds like time well-spent,” came his reply, as natural as breathing. He could not imagine a better fate than spending his entire life alongside the woman he loved – basking in the warmth of her embrace, kissing her soft and pliant lips, listening to her opinions and her fears, consoling and encouraging her every step of the way.

 

Flashing Rey a smile that matched her own, he took her hands and settled them again on her lap. They rested on top of the small book they had discussed just minutes ago, the small tome laden with meaning she’d related to her own woes. 

 

“Let me prove to you that I never intended to hurt or embarrass you, that I never wanted you to feel unworthy or unloved,” he asked. “Let me prove that I am not fickle, that what we shared on the evening you came into my home was as true and precious as the weeks that followed.”

 

Cupping her face, he gently tilted her chin downwards. He let her look into his eyes, hoping with every fiber of his being that she could see his earnest,  good intentions.

 

“Let me court you, Rey,” he resumed, watching as the apples of her cheeks bloomed a deep shade of pink. “Let me court you properly, as I should have done from the beginning, instead of playing games that I now know I shouldn’t have.”

 

“You want to court me?” Rey asked, her voice tinged with surprise. “Like a gentleman would a lady of high status?”

 

He caressed her cheeks, drawing circles with his thumb across her soft skin. “Of course,” he said, his voice determined. “I want to court you, and, if you will have me, it would be the greatest honor to marry you, Rey. And I would not do it because of duty, or because of the expectations placed upon me by my family. I would do it because I choose you, freely, without any obligation.”

 

“And I am free to choose as well, then?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “As you claimed you want me to. Without my uncle restricting my freedom, without my employment influencing my decisions?”

 

He nodded.Deep down, he expected this question would come. She was, he knew well, employed by his mother, her entire livelihood dependent on maintaining a good relationship with the family who had given her a life beyond the confinement she’d know almost her entire life.

 

“You need not worry about your livelihood,” Ben assured her, his hands resting on her shoulders in a supportive gesture, his palms caressing her through the fabric of her new dress. “If you want employment elsewhere, you will be free to find it. I do not want your gratitude to influence your decisions, Rey.”

 

Her lovely mouth curled up in a smile. “Do you remember what I told you about my being under your mother’s employment and not yours?”

 

Ben nodded. “I remember well.”

 

How could he forget the fire he had glimpsed in her eyes when she had said those words in the library? It had kept him awake for several nights, wishing he could find a way to nurture it, to let it burn bright forever. 

 

“Meekness does not suit you, Rey,” he continued, his smile widening. “And I am thankful for it.”

 

As soon as she had been employed by his mother, she had made it clear that she did not owe Ben her time. The statement had, at first, perplexed him. But he had also delighted in the manner Rey challenged his every word and corrected his appalling behavior.

 

She wet her lips. “Good.”

 

There were not enough words to describe how thoroughly he had enjoyed her tongue lashing. How invigorating it had been to not be treated with deference because of his rank. He had been so afraid during the masquerade that nobody would dare look beneath the façade of wealth and social standing.

 

Until he’d met her. 

 

“Then I assure you that my gratitude has nothing to do with how much I love you, Your Grace,” Rey said, giving him a bright smile.

 

At that, Ben’s heart pounded in his chest, almost threatening to burst. “Y-you love me?” he asked, the words barely registering under the sheer wave of emotions sweeping through his body.

 

“We really ought to do something to improve your attention skills,” Rey mused, taking his hands into her own and squeezing them in a reassuring gesture. “Of course, I love you, Ben. Why do you think I spent years staring at you as you picked flowers from your garden?” 

 

She pressed a kiss on his knuckles. “You adorably, frustrating man. While you spend our entire lives undoing what my uncle taught me to believe about myself, I will make certain I tell you how much you mean to me every day.” 

 

“How will you start?”

 

Leaning forward, she looked into his eyes, her hazel orbs shining. “I will start by telling you how much I love you as a man, and not as a duke. I know that is your greatest fear.” 

 

“You know me well then.”

 

“That is why I came to see you that evening, Ben,” Rey confessed, bringing her body closer until she sat at the edge of the settee. “It seems a reminder is in order.”

 

Ben’s lips quirked. “What do you have in mind, then?”

  
  


~*~

  
  


She kissed him.

 

Too stunned to move, Ben allowed her to brush her lips against his, to gently rest her palms on his shoulders as she leaned forward. She was close, so close he could pull her towards him and they would surely tumble on the floor in a tangle of limbs and fabric. 

 

But he did none of that. 

 

He knew, deep down, that this moment was hers for the taking, that Rey had taken a chance to express her true feelings despite the doubts which plagued her. He could only let her do as she pleased, indulging in the soft sound of her breath as her lips moved. 

 

She tasted him, shyly at first, as if figuring out by herself what to do. The gentle press of her lips, the tip of her tongue darting out in a wordless plea, was proof enough of how much she desired him. The thought sent a wave of desire flowing through him, until his arousal strained against his trousers. Parting his lip, he gave her entrance, and she slipped her tongue inside to taste him, a content moan escaping her mouth as she did so. 

 

Ben’s mind flashed to the first kiss they had shared all those weeks ago, just as exciting and special as the one they indulged in now. He had taken the initiative then, savouring her sweet lips and guiding her, sensing from the beginning that she had never done such a thing before. Now, it was Rey who had taken charge, and he allowed her to explore at her own pace, moaning against her mouth when her teeth grazed his lower lip. Her bravery and passion filled his heart with joy.

 

Her hands journeyed upwards, cupping his cheeks before the tips of her fingers sunk in his hair, small and curious and wanting. When she pulled at his locks, Ben released a needy groan, a sound both wild and satisfied, the gesture bringing him incredible satisfaction. 

 

He loved this wild side of her, reminiscent of a feline enjoying the spoils of war. Basking in her triumph. 

 

“Rey,” he moaned in between kisses, separated only by the brief moments in which they paused for air.

 

In response, she pulled him towards her, parting her legs so that he could settle between her knees, something Ben was extremely grateful for. Smiling against her mouth, he settled where she wordlessly demanded, lifting up her voluminous layers of skirt to accommodate his broad frame. 

 

A hand journeyed downward, brushing against her ankle before he journeyed upwards to caress her calve, cursing to himself the thin stocking which barred him from her skin. 

 

“You are wearing too many clothes,” he grunted when they parted, smiling as she rewarded him with a chuckle. 

 

“We could remedy it easily, Your Grace,” she pointed out, pressing a brief kiss at the corner of his lips. “However, you have promised to court me properly.”

 

He exhaled deeply before he gave her a laugh. “I remember all too well.”

 

“So, if you intend to court me like a proper gentleman would a lady, then I am afraid we cannot go any further,” Rey continued in a teasing tone. “I am unchaperoned as it is, and I am afraid our feline audience doesn’t count.”

 

Smirking, he looked to his left, observing as the two cats continued to give him an angry look, digging their claws into the settee. “I believe they most certainly count,” he retorted, paying close attention to the feline with black and white splotches. “That one is close to pouncing on me if I even breathe in the wrong direction.”

 

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, sending a wave of need coursing through his body. “Let us put that to the test then, shall we?”

 

She pounced on him, robbing him of breath as they landed on the floor in heap of limbs and fabric.

 

The kiss came soon after, first a peck, then a deep and passionate exploration which sent all rational thought scattering. Her hands were everywhere, journeying across the expanse of his chest, fumbling with the metal buttons of his dark jacket. Her scent enveloped him, spring flowers like the ones he’d plucked from his garden, sweet and invigorating, a delicate mixture that filled his senses until he could think of nothing but Rey.

 

Rey and her inviting mouth trailing kisses down his throat. Rey and the way she smiled against his lips when she succeeded unbuttoning his jacket. Rey and her small palm resting on his heartbeat as she looked up at him with wonder and awe.

 

“This is all very new to me, Ben,” she said, lips glistening. “But, since I have the freedom to choose, I want our courtship to be very brief.”

 

Eyes widening, he nodded, his mind trying to put together his errant throughs. “It will be whatever you want it to be, Rey,” he replied, sensing as his arousal pressed against her lower belly. “Say the words and as soon as the sun rises, I will procure a special license. We’ll be married by sunset, my dear.”

 

She rewarded him with a smile that shone across her countenance, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Marry me, Ben,” she said, her fingers toying with his cravat. “Show me a life that is different from the one I’ve known before I came to stay with you. Be my partner and let me show you how it is like to be loved as you are, regardless of wealth or status.”

 

Nodding, he brushed, a tendril of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing against the lobe. “Yes, Rey,” he replied. 

 

His voice was unsteady, the emotion he’d glimpsed behind her words affecting him more than he’d ever imagined. To be in the same room, cradling the woman he loved in his arms, seemed almost like a dream, and in that moment, he truly understood what she had felt like when he’d first spoken to her for the first time, having only gazed at him from afar.

 

Taking a deep breath, he resumed, eyes locked with hers. “I would be honored to marry you, Rey. My love, my partner.” 

 

With a smile, she placed another kiss on his lips, though this time around she moved slower, as if aware they had all the time in the world. Her lips captured his, and his own hands moved to wrap themselves around her waist, fumbling with the buttons at the back of her dress while she rested her arms on his chest in what he could only sense was anticipation. 

 

When he was done, he helped Rey out of the dress, tossing the item on the carpeted floor, right at the foot of the settee. From the corner of his eyes, he saw as the cats scattered, jumping off the furniture and hiding behind the curtains.

 

“Your chaperones have failed at their job,” he murmured against her ear, suppressing a chuckle.

 

She placed a kiss on his chin. “Let them,” she said in response, running her hand through his hair. “They’ve seen enough for tonight.”

 

Little by little, the layers were removed. His jacket and shirt were quickly discarded, joining Rey’s dress in a heap of fabric. His trousers and boots went as well, and one by one each item disappeared until he stood before her, as naked as the day he was born. She still wore her chemise and corset, stark white that contrasted with the darker hues of the soft carpet. 

 

Running her hands across his chest, Rey sighed deeply, her eyes widening with amazement. “You are so beautiful. So big and strong.”

 

His member sprang to attention then, the hardness poking her thigh. Only her thin chemise stood between them, and his hands itched to remove the troublesome layer.

 

Flashing her a wide smile, for he could not deny the surge in masculine pride her simple words had unleashed, he set out to unlace her corset, making quick work of the laces until she rested beside him clad only in her chemise. 

 

At the sight of her, he almost came, his member straining for release. 

 

Her hair had been mused, and her lips glistened from having kissed him so thoroughly. And, as he raked his eyes across Rey’s lithe body, he could see the outline of her curves. He could see the two dusty pink peaks pebbling underneath the fabric, the shape of her thighs and how she rubbed them together with eagerness, and the small thatch of curls between her legs which concealed the place he yearned to taste and fill. 

 

It was she who was beautiful, he decided, fingers toying with the hem until he removed the final garment, letting her back rest against the soft carpet.

 

“You are the beautiful one, Rey,” he whispered, his mouth practically watering at the thought that soon he would feast upon her, and that it would not be a miracle that could only last for one night. 

 

He would spend years, decades even, pleasing her, making her body sing. He could not wait. 

 

“Let me taste you,” he pleaded, the tips of his fingers travelling across her collarbone.

 

Her breathing grew labored. “I’ve never done this before. Have you?”

 

“Once or twice,” he admitted, his fingers travelling lower until he circled her right nipple. “Out of a feeling of obligation. A rite of passage.” 

 

He watched as her chest moved with each exhale, her breathing the only sound in the library besides the roaring fireplace. “But it was never like this. I have never felt anything like this.” He pressed a kiss on her lips. “Not until you.”

 

Smiling, she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks, pulling him towards her for another kiss. “Good.”

 

She took charge again, kissing him at her own pace, her tongue slipping inside in curious exploration. She was learning, he knew well, and he was content to let her do as she pleased, his trust and love for her unwavering. 

 

When they parted for breath, tears welled in his eyes. “It will only be you, Rey,” he said, meaning every word. “I know it.”

 

“I feel it too,” came her reply, a thumb brushing across his cheek.

 

Had he been crying? He could not tell. All he could see was Rey, and the precious moments they had just shared, the heartfelt confessions that he knew were only the beginning of something wonderful.

 

“You said you wanted to taste me”, Rey said, letting her arms rest beside her frame. “Show me.”

 

And he did just that.

 

His mouth descended upon her as gently as she’d kissed him, starting with her mouth, then moving onwards to her neck and shoulders, lavishing each inch of skin with his lips. Soon enough he went lower, claiming one breast, his tongue darting out to taste her, taking in the sweet sounds of her moans. 

 

When he grazed the sensitive peak with his teeth, he heard her breath hitch, followed by a plea for him to continue. It was a strangled ‘more’ punctuated by her hands resting on his back, short nails raking his skin. The sharp sensation drove him wild with need, urging him on as he moved to the other breast, loving it as thoroughly as he’d loved its sibling.

 

All the while, his hands, never stopped moving, caressing the outline of her body before resting on her hips, squeezing the soft flesh with his large palms. As if by instinct, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to settle between her thighs as he continued his journey downward, placing kisses on her stomach until he finally reached his destination – the sweet place he’d been thirsting for like a man driven by madness.

 

When his lips touched her mound, Rey twitched beneath him, a loud moan escaping her lips. “Ben”, she cried out, thighs closing as if in an effort to keep him there. “Please.”

 

With a chuckle, he raised his head, taking in her appearance, skin flushed and gaze wild. “I will take such good care of you, Rey,” he promised, resting his hands on her knees and pulling her thighs apart. 

 

He looked down at her core, wet and glistening, an entrance so small Ben yearned to fill it, to stretch her until she screamed in pure bliss. But, until he could do that, he knew she needed preparation, so he set out to the delectable task, licking a long stripe from her opening to the top of her mound, pressing his tongue against her moist folds.

 

Rey whimpered beneath him, small sounds that made him want to continue to please her, to show her just how much pleasure they could find together. And he did just that, feasting on her with his tongue as moisture continued to pool between her thighs. There was no place he left unexplored, and his hands soon joined when he used his fingers to part her folds and play with her mound, his thumb finding the spot which elicited the loudest moans.

 

Her climax came almost immediately, but that did not deter him from the task at hand. She was still not ready for him, and while he wouldn’t have minded feasting on her delectable core for hours on end, he knew what she sought in the end and was determined to offer her everything she wanted. 

 

When he slipped the first finger inside her, Rey’s hips bucked, and he was both stunned and excited by how tight she was. The primal part of him was thrilled that that she’d allowed him the privilege to touch her so intimately, to fill her up and embark with her on a future that held nothing but unwavering love and passion.

 

“You’re so big,” Rey murmured in between moans, and he looked at her face, marveling at the slight smile he glimpsed.

 

“We’ve only just begun, Rey,” he said, his smile mirroring her own as he began to slide his finger in and out of her. “You will have bigger things inside you soon enough.”

 

Her tight opening fluttered against his finger, coating it with her slick. Ben’s smile widened at that, and he continued his movements, made easier by her arousal. Soon enough, he slipped a second finger inside her, stretching her entrance, causing her to moan once more when his fingers hit a sweet spot inside her that he knew would bring her to the brink of release soon.

 

While his fingers moved inside her, he used his other hand to caress her body, toying with her breasts, her hardened nipples and the folds between her thighs. With each moan he elicited from her, his own desire increased, wanting to bring her to release, to show her pleasure, to take care of her as he’d promised. He could not bear to disappoint her, so he quickened his movements according to her responses – her encouraging moans, her whispered desires which ranged from ‘faster’ to ‘more.’

 

When she came at last, gushing all over his fingers, he rejoiced, pride mixed with a love so strong for her it almost blinded him. His vision went blurry for a moment, and it was only when he’d milked her release that he realized tears had been streaming down his face, as if her climax had been his own. It felt as if he’d already come with her, his heart so full just by seeing her face as she gazed at him with sheer wonder, as if she could not comprehend how such a simple act could bring so much pleasure.

 

Claiming her lips, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth in a wordless kiss. She reciprocated, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close, letting his arousal brush against the thatch of curls between her legs. 

 

His fingers slipped outside her snug entrance. 

 

“I want you inside,” she said when they parted for breath. “Where your fingers were just now. I want you. I know where you need to be.”

 

“Rey,” he groaned, the request sending a new spike of arousal through him that it took every bit of self-control to avoid spilling his seed over her belly.  

 

Her hand reached between their bodies, lining up his length against her entrance so he could finally slip inside her warm opening. 

 

“I want you to court me like this, Ben,” she continued, pressing a kiss on his lips, her voice so sweet and innocent he wondered if he imagined what had just transpired between them. “I don’t want to swap pleasantries inside a ballroom while a chaperone hovers over us like a hawk. I want it to be just us.  _ Here _ .”

 

“It will be the briefest courtship known to man,” he replied, the tip of his arousal poking at her entrance. 

 

He pushed forward, just an inch, pausing as soon as she gasped. “It will be perfect, then. A brief courtship and a long marriage. I love you, Ben.”

 

Her hands went to rest on his hips and pushed him in. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


He was inside her.

 

He was inside her and his mind spun, a myriad of thoughts circling with no logical thread beyond his need to make sure she was unhurt.

 

“Ben,” Rey gasped, as he took in her appearance, eyes widened in surprise and…awe.

 

Shaking his head, he gave her a closer look, registering the way her lips quirked while her eyebrows went up.

 

“Are you hurt?” he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice. “Rey.”

 

Letting out a deep sigh, she closed her eyes. “It feels so…big. I feel so full.”

 

His member twitched inside her snug entrance, as if mocking his concern. 

 

“It is strange,” she mused, her breathing surprisingly even in his estimation. “But right. I cannot explain it, Ben.”

 

“You are perfect.” He sank his head in the crook of her neck, placing a kiss on her shoulder. “So perfect.”

 

They stood like this for a few moments as he let her adjust to his thick length, her opening fluttering against his member, pulling him deeper it seemed, wordlessly telling him what Rey wanted. Still, he needed to hear her say it. The thought of hurting her, of making love to her and leave her wanting bothered him tremendously.

 

After a few more seconds, Ben sensed her shift beneath him, so he lifted his head to look into her eyes. Her hazel orbs seemed to sparkle in the firelight, and her skin looked warm and glowing.

 

“I want you to move inside me now,” she whispered. “I want you to move inside me like you did before.”

 

Nodding, he placed a kiss on her lips, using his arms to support himself so as not to crush her. “Wrap your legs around me, my love,” he said, smiling when she did just that with no hesitation.

 

And, just like that he moved, slipping in and out of her at a slow pace, careful not to harm her. Slick pooled between her legs, covering his arousal with her essence, easing each action. Her moans came soon enough, spurred by the movement of his length inside her as it hit the same elusive spot he’d found with his fingers. 

 

Slipping one hand between their bodies, he toyed with her folds, sensitive to even the slightest touch from having peaked only minutes ago. He took care not to overexert her, not to bring her body to a point where she could not bear to be stroked and entered and stretched. Instead, he brought her moans to a steady rhythm, building up her climax slowly, but surely, like a wave moving in a gentle summer breeze. 

 

There were no hurried cries and demands for speed, and he watched in awe as Rey’s eyes never left his face, her gaze begging his to hold it in this moment of sheer bliss. He did just that, pausing only every once in a while, with the sole purpose of dipping his head for a quick kiss. In between the kissing, he whispered words of encouragement into her ear, using language to say what he attempted to convey in action.

 

Learning from his mistakes, Ben urged her on, trying to bring both their bodies to a shared release. A sheen of perspiration coated his forehead, but he paid it no mind, his intent focused entirely on the beautiful woman who had bared herself to him, body and soul, overcoming her fears of judgement.

 

They peaked together, a delicate gasp and a low groan filling the library, mixing in with the calming sound of the crackling fire.

 

When it was all over, he pulled away from her, resting his back on the soft carpet and bringing her into his arms, one palm splayed on her back while the other settled on her hip. They stood like that for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, punctured only by the sound of their heavy breathing.

 

Pressing a kiss on Rey’s forehead, he glimpsed two cat tails peeking up from underneath the curtains, their backs thankfully turned away from the events which had transpired in this room not that long ago.

 

He’d forgotten about them. The truth is that, with Rey in his arms, he’d forgotten about the whole world. The ballroom was nothing but a distant memory in that moment, the room they were in located so far away from it that it would take a while for anyone to find them.

 

The ballroom and…

 

“Ben,” his mother’s voice echoed outside the door, followed closely by a loud knock.

 

He stilled, looking down at Rey’s face, her expression as surprised as his own.

 

“Ben, Rey. I know you’re in here” Leia spoke again. “When you two emerge from this room, I expect at least an engagement.” 

 

Another knock followed, this time less polite than the one which came before. “I spent weeks trying to matchmake you two, and I won’t let my efforts go to waste.” 

 

A soft chuckle reverberated through the room, followed by Rey’s fruitless efforts to hide it by burrowing her face into his chest. “I should have known,” she murmured, her smile wide and shining. 

 

“You have nothing to worry about, mother,” Ben spoke, kissing the crown of Rey’s head. “In fact, if you behave, we’ll consider inviting you to the wedding.”

 

From behind the closed door, his mother harrumphed in mock outrage. 

  
  
  


FIN

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the story is complete! No cats were harmed during this chapter, and I assure you that they did not see anything go down. The cats are okay, as is our couple. 
> 
> This final chapter was a struggle to write, but once I switched POVs it suddenly clicked, and the words poured out onto the page. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and supported this story. Your encouragement meant a lot. If you liked this chapter and this story, please do not hesitate to leave comments and kudos. Thank you again to midnightbluefox (it was a privilege to write this fic for you) and thank you to my beta loveofescapism. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter. If you liked it, please do not hesitate to leave kudos and comments. <3


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